


Quiety

by onionblossomhorseradish



Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: M/M, Parapines, Slow Burn, and of course gays and fluff, anyways welcome to 2012 crossover ship hell and me projecting onto Dipper Pines, but things will pick up! i have /some/ drama planned, destiel fics on tumblr or something, enjoy your stay, i like writing quiet character musings and wordy landscape descriptions okay, like REALLY slow hahaaaaaa, oh my god this is my first fi c on ao3 and my first fic since i was a wee baby posting like, this fic starts off pretty slow because i like word vomiting over everything i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 38,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onionblossomhorseradish/pseuds/onionblossomhorseradish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an alternate universe where the Pines have returned to Gravity Falls each summer, and never showed Stan the journal after the events in Gideon Rises, leaving him unable to restart the portal, Dipper has taken to frequenting paranormal forums and news sites in-between summers. After striking up a casual friendship with a fellow user on one such website, he is surprised to hear his internet acquaintance is heading to Gravity Falls for the summer.<br/></p><p>Meanwhile, one of Norman Babcock's Prenderghast relatives has died, leaving his meager inheritance to Norm's family; when Perry is unexpectedly fired from his job, Sandra decides the best option is for the family to fly up to the one substantial thing her estranged grandparent left them--a sizable, but overgrown chunk of land in the small rural town of Gravity Falls, OR-- to spend the summer working to fix up and sell the house and acreage, and to learn to relax and have fun somewhere other than the small, nosy township of Blithe Hollow.<br/></p><p>But things in Gravity Falls are, unsurprisingly, not as expected, and the rundown property they've inherited seems as strange and mysterious as the tiny, odd town itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Dipper! Dipper!”

One moment, Dipper was sound asleep and comfy in his warm bed. The next, something loud and colorful was yelling at him, as his mind sluggishly tried to play catch up. Sitting up, hastily, he rubbed his eyes and everything suddenly snapped into focus as his brain booted up.

“Get up! Get up!” Mabel cheered, jumping on his bed. “Today’s the day!”

“Guh-Mabel-“ Dipper struggled not to fall off said bed, the whole frame bouncing and creaking alarmingly.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what day it is!” Mabel complained at her brother’s lack of enthusiasm, still bouncing up and down with giddy excitement.

“Of course I haven’t.” Dipper said, unsuccessfully trying to stop a playful grin from spreading over his face, as he shoved Mabel over. “I just wanted some sleep.”

“How can you sleep on a day like this?!” Mabel yelled, pulling herself back up and shaking him by the shoulders.

“I suppose it was too much to ask for.” Dipper pondered.

“Of course it was.” Mabel agreed, grinning with excitement.

Dipper caught her eye, and couldn’t help but grin as well. It was finally summer – they were finally going back to Gravity Falls!

“Now come on, there’s pancakes!” Mabel said, leaping off of the bed and onto the paper- and clothing-strewn floor of Dipper’s room.

Dipper quickly grabbed his hat, stuffing his hair--sticking up at all angles--underneath it and following Mabel’s thundering footsteps down the hall.

By the time he had brushed his teeth, loaded his plate and sat down at the table, Mabel had already finished her first pile of hotcakes, heading back for a second serving.

“It’s gonna be so great, Dipper!” She said, when she returned, plate dripping syrup on the floor and on her hands.

Dipper smiled at his eggs. “I know, we’re really going back! I wonder if it’ll be any different?”

“It will be, it always is! It’s always completely different and exactly the same, every time! It’s always summer but it’s always a different one.” Mabel’s deep(ish) words were undermined only slightly by the fact they were muffled through a good mouthful of pancake and whipped cream.

“I wonder what kind of new stuff we’ll discover! Maybe we can finally figure out who wrote the journals!”

“Do you think Waddles will recognize me? Do you think he’s gotten any bigger? Aaah! I can’t wait to see Candy and Grenda and Wendy and everyone!”

“I wonder what new attractions Stan’s invented at the shack…” Dipper mused, having gained some begrudging fondness for his great uncle's ridiculous (and inventive) creations over the years.

“Hey, maybe we can make some cash money there!” Mabel said. “Now that it’s legal for us to work, Grunkle Stan has to pay us- it’s genius!”

Dipper laughed. “Don’t expect too much cash money for your efforts.”

“Listen, I’m intimidating. And Wendy’ll back me up if Stan refuses to pay us.” Mabel stabbed her fork into her stack of pancakes determinedly, as if to emphasize her point.

“Oh man, Wendy... I wonder how college is going for her?”

“She’s probably kicking ass, you know Wendy.” Mabel got a mischievous look in her eyes, nudging Dipper, “Hey, maybe you’ll finally get your summer romance this year, ehhh?”

Dipper scrunched his nose up. “Ew, with Wendy?”

Mabel stuck her tongue out. “With anyone. You’re the one who said Wendy.”

Dipper shook his head. “Shut up. And I don’t need you projecting your own desires onto me.” He raised an eyebrow back at her. He made an effort not to think about his old, old embarrassing crush on Wendy. Especially since he was pretty sure he still had residual feelings of some sort for the redhead.

“Psh, I don’t need to hope for a summer romance- where Mabel goes, romance follows. I’m irresistible.” Mabel patted her hair--fluffy as ever, though she’d just smeared maple syrup through it on accident. “I just hope I’m not too much for that tiny, fragile town.”

“I sure hope so too.” Dipper smirked into his coffee (paler than himself, thanks to the amount of cream he put in it).

“Listen, Dipper, my romance game is stronger than ever.” Mabel said. “I will woo everyone in Gravity Falls, if I have to, to prove my strength!”

“Then how will _I_ ever have a summer romance?”

“Darn, you’re right.” Mabel steepled her fingers underneath her chin, glaring in concentration. “I need a new plan.” She said with mock solemnity.

 Dipper laughed, shaking his head. He finished off the rest of the pancakes on his plate, and just as he was about to stand up, Mabel threw down the last of her coffee, slamming the empty mug dramatically down on the table.

“Welp, I’m gonna go take a shower before you can get to the bathroom before me okaybyeee!” She stood up in her chair and made a run for it.

“No, Mabel!” Dipper yelped, giving chase.

They both skidded to a halt only a few seconds later, Dipper just a millisecond too slow as Mable slammed the bathroom door in front of him, yelling something triumphant from the other side.

Dipper took a moment to sigh and wallow in his defeat, before yawning and looking around for something else to do while Mabel got ready.

He resolved to wander upstairs, poking around in his suitcase, making sure everything was packed. He already knew it was, he’d made a list and then re-written the list to make sure, and then asked Mabel if he’d forgotten anything, and them packed it late last night, in a nervous and impatient frenzy. He went through what he’d remembered, again, double- and triple-checking. First aid kit, deodorant, shoes, journal, camera, rain jacket, phone, phone charger, underwear, toothbrush, socks...

He’d slipped his laptop in, too (a recent Christmas present from his parents, the twins both got one, of the same model: a small, lightweight thing, with the capacity to do anything up to and only sometimes including watching Youtube videos) on the off-chance that he’d have a use for it. Last year, Mabel had managed to convince Grunkle Stan to finally upgrade from dial up, but the internet access in the shack was still painfully slow, as he refused to pay more than the absolute minimum (“I’m not paying some sham company 50 dollars a month for something I can get for free at the library, or at any shmuck’s house!” Mabel had explained the concept of networks with password locks on them, but Grunkle Stan just said “I’ve cracked a few codes and combinations in my day, I’m not lettin’ some internet strongbox stop me!”).

Dipper shook his head, pulling the laptop out now to poke around aimlessly on the internet while he waited.

He had a handful of different paranormal-related websites bookmarked; forums, blogs and online newspapers, mostly. They were fun to comb through, though everything had to be taken with a grain of salt and often the truths about various creatures and phenomena posted on the site were hidden within the exaggerated, fanciful stories, but Dipper found it a worthwhile challenge. He jotted down anything interesting he found, making a resolve to one day do the stories more justice than just Googling and speculating about them. He had plans to travel around the country, at some point, investigating any cool paranormal activity. But that was much, much farther in the future.

When he visited one such forum, Dipper found himself pleasantly surprised to find a notification, and a new PM waiting for him.

He’d been chatting, on and off, with some person on the forums for a good handful of months now. It was fun, having a place to make random talk about cryptids and ghosts with someone else who was interested. Though they often disagreed about the existence of some things, it was still fun to debate with them whether or not unicorns were real (Dipper just had to remind himself not to actually tell the guy that he’d run into a herd of them, and that they were jerks. Didn’t need people on the internet thinking he was a massive weirdo, too).

Crazy-sounding or not, their conversations were nice, even if they rarely drifted away from the paranormal subject. Mabel herself was aggressively supportive of his internet “friend” (her words), though Dipper had told her they were just acquaintances. People on the internet were weird, alright? He didn’t want to get mixed up in that.

But his new message caught him off-guard, surprised him unlike their constant arguments over supernatural creatures.

[6:02 AM] **Prender** : Ever heard of a town called Gravity Falls?

After a jolt of confusion, followed by anxiety that he’d been somehow found out, followed by more confusion when he reasoned that this guy had no way to know that was the town in which Dipper spent his summers hunting monsters, Dipper re-read the message, searching for some hidden intent.

He bit his lip, considering the possible outcomes and the conversation leading up to this. They hadn’t been talking about anything personal – not what they were doing this summer, or even states they had visited. Well, they kind of were, but they weren’t talking states they’d been to, they were talking renown supernatural places they’d been to. Dipper had admitted he hadn’t gone to many paranormal hotspots, to his chagrin, and Prender had said he’d been to Point Pleasant, once, on a road trip. He’d sent a link to a photo of two people standing in front of the mothman statue, a girl with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a young, scrawny-looking boy with hair too spiky to forget. Dipper had studied the low-res JPEG for a while, trying to determine if either of the people in the photo were who he’d been messaging the past winter and spring, or if he was the photographer, or someone else entirely. Hey, it wasn’t like they were friends, or even close acquaintances, but Dipper was still curious. And even if the two of them steered clear of talking about real life things, Dipper had sent blurry pictures, sometimes including himself, of monsters he and Mabel had encountered to Prender; so Dipper figured a real-life picture of the other guy wasn’t unreasonable or weird to send in return. And Dipper couldn’t help that he was a little curious about who was on the other side of the computer screen when they stayed up late chatting; could you blame him?

But this was different. This stepped over the unspoken boundaries the two had created (or perhaps, Dipper hoped, unknowingly wandered past them). Vague, formless worries about Gideon or Bill swirled in the back of Dipper’s head, and he typed a hasty message before he could overthink things.

[6:28 AM] **ursamajor** : nope

After a moment of deliberation, knowing it would haunt him if he didn’t find the answer, he added:

[6:28 AM] **ursamajor** : why?

He went to go stuff more miscellaneous supplies in his suitcase, distracting himself from his worrying and wondering, but it was only a few minutes later when he got a reply.

[6:30 AM] **Prender** : I guess my family’s gonna be there for the summer, long story. Seemed like there was a disproportionate amount of weird news and supernatural reports surrounding it, compared to actual history and trivia… but I guess it must be a tourist-grabbing scheme or a hoax or something.

Dipper’s first thought was, _damn, it’s gonna be hard to continue that lie if we’re both in Gravity Falls and we both like the supernatural,_ and his second thought was _damn, why didn’t I just ask him why first and decide if his motives were creepy before lying?!_

Dipper berated himself mentally, and decided he should probably just change the subject altogether. This whole Gravity Falls topic worried him, and it seemed like something he should seek Mabel’s advice on.

[6:32 AM] **ursamajor** : wow, didn’t think i’d get a reply so fast. wht are you doing up so early/?

[6:33 AM] **Prender** : It’s 9:30.

Shit, way to somehow make the subject change continue to be awkward.

[6:33 AM] **ursamajor** : oh.

[6:33 AM] **ursamajor** : well . not here. lol.

 _Smooth_.

[6:34 AM] **Prender** : What time is it where you are?

[6:34 AM] **ursamajor** : 6 in the morning lol

[6:34 AM] **Prender** : Ouch.

[6:34 AM] **ursamajor** : my sister likes to get up early... Brb

Dipper rubbed his eyes. It really was too early for this, he thought, as he let the fact that the person he’d been chatting with the past few months, whoever they were, were going to be spending the summer in Gravity Falls along with him, roll over in his mind a few times.

It seemed too weird to be a coincidence, but Mabel had warned Dipper about “getting all up in his own head”, and Dipper wasn’t too eager to start down the paranoia path anyways. Gravity Falls may be the center of some seriously weird happenings, and odd coincidences and meetings might surround it from time to time, but Bill wasn’t strong enough to control _everything_.

Dipper rubbed his hand where ghostly rows of fork-prong scars were still just barely visible. Not everything, he repeated.

“Hey, bro bro!” Dipper almost jumped out of his skin at Mabel’s sudden arrival, punctuated with excited stomp-walking.

“Oh! H-hey.”

“Shower’s free, now.”

“Did you leave hot water for the rest of the family?”

“Ehhh” Mabel made a noncommittal hand gesture.

“Well, look at this.” Dipper dove in, not patient enough for more off-topic banter.

He handed Mabel the computer, smudging the bottom right corner of the screen as he pointed to the chat box and the recent conversation history.

“What?” Mabel squinted, “He lives on the east coast? Good for him! They have cool beaches there, I think. Another important clue to figure out who your internet friend is-“

“No, Mabel.” Dipper pointed at the earlier messages.

“Oh.” Mabel looked surprised. “Well that’s a much more useful clue to finding out who your internet frien- _you said no_?!”

Mabel shot him a glare.

“I panicked!” Dipper shrugged. “He was just asking about Gravity Falls stuff out of the blue- what was I supposed to do?”

“Tell him you’re going there for the summer, too! Hang out! Fight Nessie or tame Bigfoot or something!”

“Yeah, well, I know that _now_.” Dipper moped. “…Maybe he’s a weird internet creep anyways.”

“You showed me that picture he sent- he can’t be so internet creepy.” Mabel argued.

Dipper shook his head. “Who knows who’s even in that picture; there’s two people, for one, and maybe this guy’s not even one of them.”

“Shhh.” Mabel said. “Neither of them, and probably neither the cameraman either, looked internet creepy.”

“Neither the cameraman either?”

“You know what I mean.”

Dipper sighed. “Well, now if I see either one of those picture people I’ll have to run and hide.”

“Dipper, please! Just tell him the truth- it’s never too late to apologize!”

“I think immediately going back on a blatant lie is a little creepy, Mabel.”

“Dipper, Dipper, Dipper…” Mabel chided. “Is it creepier than sticking with the lie?”

“Yes! No?”

“Just say you were tired and confused or something, and go from there. You know I could beat him up if you two did hang out and he turned out to be internet creepy, right?”

Dipper chewed his lip. “I guess I could try…”

“Kids!” Their dad called from downstairs. “We need to be out the door in 30!”

“Shoot.” Dipper said, snapping the laptop closed and grabbing a handful of (probably) clean clothes from the floor. “I need to get dressed.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can tell a lot about a person by what they write, and from this chapter you can tell i was probably hungry for breakfast foods

Norman had woken up with a jolt of panic to light streaming in through his open bedroom window and the sound of his family bustling about downstairs, his brain sleepily putting the pieces together and determining he must have overslept for school. It took him a moment, bleary-eyed and alarmed, to remember that it was both summer break, and a Sunday. The digital (zombie-themed) clock next to his bed read 8:12 in blinking, red letters, and Norman relaxed, a little. It wasn’t too late, and anyways, today, he could sleep in.

He stood, figuring he would head downstairs and get breakfast, when he remembered last night. His dad had come home, clearly upset, and stormed off into the kitchen with his mother to talk in stressed voices. Norman and Courtney (back home from college for the summer) had taken their cue, leaving their parents to argue or worry or whatever it was in peace.

He sighed, not eager to be drawn into the drama and stress, but knowing that both he and Courtney would probably hear about it over breakfast, and decided to try and ward off the inevitable, taking his time showering and getting dressed.

When he finally padded down the stairs in a t-shirt and shorts, the rest of his family were already sitting around the table, looking relatively calm.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” His dad teased (a good-natured teasing, though, which was hopefully a good omen).

“Grab a plate, we waited for you to eat.” His mom said, though it looked like Courtney was already picking at her breakfast as she stared down at her phone.

“You didn’t have to.” Norman said, meekly, though it was always family tradition to eat together. His mom had decided, early on, that breakfast was the most important meal, and it should never be eaten in a rush or without the rest of the family.

Though the air was calm, the food left on the stove for Norman betrayed some sort of conflict, and potential bad news on the way; his mom always went all-out with her cooking when something stressful was happening in the family. It was her little way of trying to keep the peace, to cheer up the household. Today, breakfast was bacon, hash browns, and blueberry pancakes (there was even a tub of cool whip and some sliced fruits by the syrup)--a mouth-watering meal, only slightly tainted by the fact he had started to associate bacon with stressful times in the family. His mother had cooked a huge breakfast like this one the morning after the day of the witch’s curse incident, and had done the same many times before, when Norman was having a hard time in school, or when he had fought with his dad over ghosts.

Norman shoveled food onto his plate, calm despite the heavy sense of impending Bad News.

When he finally sat down, pancakes doctored perfectly with strawberries and cream, faux-maple syrup drizzled over his bacon and hashbrowns, his mom spoke up.

“So, Perry has some bad news.” She started, cutting to the chase. “He’s been laid off.”

Courtney looked up. “When?!”

“Yesterday.” Perry said, calmer than Norman expected.

“They can’t just do that, can they? Fire you without warning?” Courtney sounded outraged.

“It’s fine, honey.” Sandra said. Courtney had always been protective of her family, and sharp as a tack, but her mom laid a hand over hers, calming her. “We’ve worked everything out.”

“What do you mean?” Norman asked.

“Well, Perry and I decided that he deserves a break.” She said. Norman tried to ignore the growing sense of worry he felt. “So he’s going to take a few months off to rest and look for more work.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime? There’s still bills to pay!” Courtney worried.

“We have enough saved up for a little while, an emergency fund. We’ll take out of that while we’re gone.”

“Gone?” Norman asked.

His mom looked concerned, now. “Ah, yes.” She said, gentle and almost apologetic, like she was sorry to perturb Norman and Courtney with whatever she was about to tell them. “We just found out last week that one of my relatives died. My grandfather on my mother’s side- I barely knew he existed, but it turns out I was his closest living relative. Donald Prenderghast, was his name. He’s left your father and I quite a mess of his affairs to sort out, but it looks like we’ll end up inheriting a small chunk of money, and some land after all is said and done.”

Norman nodded and hummed quietly, and she continued.

“Your father and I think that, with our current employment status, it’s a good idea to go ahead and sell the property he’s left us.”

“So?” Courtney asked.

“Well, we figured we’d need to hire someone to inspect it and fix it up either way.” Sandra said. “But with your father out of work and all of us in need of a vacation, we thought, why not head up there for the summer? We can fix up the property ourselves, while Perry hunts for work from afar. And we can all have a nice little respite from Blithe Hollow.”

Courtney looked concerned. “’Head up’ where?”

“Oregon.” Perry said.

“Oregon?” Norman asked.

“That’s so far away!” Courtney blurted.

“Shush, shush. It’s a fine, sleepy little town, in a beautiful wild state! We’ll fly out Thursday, it’ll be fine.”

“Who’ll watch the house?” Courtney asked.

“Neil could.” Norman suggested.

Courtney sent him a pleading look, not wanting to have to join the rest of her family to go to some tiny, stuffy town for her summer.

“Yes, that would be perfect. He’s sensible enough, he can keep an eye on things while we’re gone.” Sandra looked pleased.

Courtney sighed, standing and dumping her dishes in the sink. “Alright. I’ll tell my friends I won’t be able to hang out this summer after all.”

“Oh, honey.” Sandra said, sympathetic. “I’m sorry. We could try and work something out for you to stay here, if you’d rather…”

Courtney looked excited, for a moment, then paused to consider. After a moment of thought, she said, “No. I’ll go”

Sandra looked excited. “Good! The whole family can be together again, before both of you go off and do your own things and get married!”

“Yeah.” Courtney smiled, fondly. But the expression was quickly replaced with a smirk. “Plus, you guys wouldn’t last a week in a new town without me.”

“That’s my girl.” Perry said, patting her on the shoulder as he stood up, breakfast and Serious Family Moment over.

“Hey, Mom?” Norman asked, sliding the last uneaten bites of his breakfast, now soggy with syrup and melted whipped cream, into the trash. “What did you say the town we’re going to was called?”

“Gravity Falls.” She said. “Isn’t that an odd name?”

Norman couldn’t remember ever hearing about the town- it must have been truly tiny. “Yeah.” He hummed. “Thanks for breakfast!”

“You’re welcome.” Sandra watched as he dashed back up to his room, “Could you ask Neil if he can housesit?”

“Will do!” He called, already headed towards his computer.

He opened the laptop, an ancient hand-me-down from Courtney, and waited for it to start; he picked at the smudges of pink and red nail polish that adorned a few keys, courtesy of its previous owner, and admired the plastering of zombie- and ghost-related stickers wallpapering the rest of the computer, courtesy of Norman himself.

When the computer finally whirred to life, he shot off a quick Skype to Neil.

[9:18 AM] **Norman Babcock** : Hey, are you busy today?

And then he pulled up his browser, curious about the small Oregon town he was heading to. But to his surprise, there wasn’t much to find on the internet. The one Wikipedia page on Gravity Falls, OR, was short, and ended in a disclaimer that it was a stub, and needed more information. The town didn’t even seem to have a city website, and the only news articles relating to it were from years ago, or about seemingly impossible happenings.

He chuckled at the first few headlines, talking of gnomes and giant, man-eating bats, but the more he looked the more he found. It seemed the only information he could find on the town were alleged supernatural happenings, posted by weird news sites and the like.

Norman, despite being able to see ghosts, didn’t readily believe in the supernatural– his father had instilled in him a healthy skepticism of all things unproven. But his mother, and her psychic genes, gave Norman a reason to believe in at least some of the stories, and a casual interest in investigating them. He’d even poked around on a few forums and websites dotting the internet that were dedicated to the paranormal and supernatural- usually, they weren’t good for much more than a laugh, as people completely misunderstood how ghosts worked. But sometimes, they’d turn up reports of an interesting event, or a cryptid that sounded plausible. Lately, Norman had actually been chatting with another user on one of the forums he frequented, on-and-off. They mostly just talked about the supernatural, and the other person believed in a lot of the more ridiculous monsters and ghost stories out there, which Norman thought a little foolish, but the two still had interesting conversations – and the other guy had heard of a lot of interesting creatures and phenomena that Norman hadn’t even heard of, and told him about these fanciful theories at length.

Norman figured, if anyone knew anything about Gravity Falls, it was probably ursamajor. He sent a quick message over, just before his Skype chirped at him. It was Neil.

[9:12 AM] **neil** : ? yeah what up :^?

[9:13 AM] **Norman Babcock** : My parents just told me we’re going to be spending the summer in Oregon. I guess my dad just lost his job and my mom’s grandpa or something left us an old fixer-upper in some town called Gravity Falls.

[9:14 AM] **Norman Babcock** : Point is we needed someone to watch the house, just like make sure we don’t get robbed or evicted while we’re gone, or something. Are you busy this summer?

[9:14 AM] **neil** : dude cool! tho sucks that we cant hang out this summer 3: i m not busy, though.

[9:15 AM] **Norman Babcock** : Do you think you can watch our house for us? My mom’s cool with it if your mom’s cool with it- I’m sure she just wants you to come over every so often and mow the lawn or something!

[9:15 Am] **neil** : yoo sweet, i think i can manage it lemme see

[9:15 AM] **neil** : BRB

Norman waited, checking the forecast in Oregon and Blithe Hollow for the rest of the summer. His computer chimed, just as he was running out of random things on his desk to tidy as he waited for a response.

[9:22 AM] **neil** : yea i can do it just show me what i gotta do! 8)

[9:22 AM] **Norman Babcock** : Alright. You wanna come over today?

[9:23 AM] **neil** : heck yeah! you can show me what to do and then we can just chill . gotta hang out before you leave!!!!.

[9:23 AM] **Norman Babcock** : Sounds good! Come over whenever.

[9:25 AM] **Neil** : ok, ill b over at like 10 or smthn :^p

Norman smiled, then went back to his pointless internet wandering, trying to kill a few more minutes. One of his open tabs blinked, telling him he had a new message.

[6:28 AM] **ursamajor** : nope

It seemed silly, but Norman couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment. He guessed he really was going to be spending the majority of his summer in some tiny, boring hick town.

Norman sighed, suddenly dreading showing Neil around the house, as if it somehow solidified his fate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "write tired, edit tired." - ernest hemmingway, probably

By the time Dipper and Mabel were on the bus to Gravity Falls, (well, by the time they were on the first of a long series of busses to Gravity Falls), the sun was already high in the sky, shining off of the vast expanse of ocean to the west, and creating shimmering mirages on the road ahead of them.

Dipper was hardly bothered by the brightness or the heat. The quiet hum of road noise, and the gently winding road they were on, lulled him into a sense of tiredness. He figured he only got a handful of solid hours of sleep the night before, anyway; his mind was too preoccupied running through tomorrow’s hopes and worries to pay attention to something as trivial as sleeping.

Mabel, on the other hand, seemed to have no such problem, she was practically squealing and bouncing with glee as she stared excitedly out the window at the rows of suburban houses and scrub brush-covered hills.

“Take a good long look, Dipper!” Mabel said. “We won’t be seeing this again until the end of the summer!”

“Wow.” Dipper stared out, shoulder leading against the sun-warmed glass. “I can’t believe it’s summer already.”

Mabel looked like she’d remembered something, and pulled out her phone, typing what must have been a few quick texts to her friends, and then produced a tiny camera from her backpack. She had saved up for and bought a tiny polaroid camera earlier that year, and had brought along the now sticker-covered thing for their trip, in addition to a ridiculous amount of film. She took pictures of random Californian scenery (and, once or twice, Dipper) excitedly, tucking each photograph away in her own little scrapbook journal. Dipper just watched the orange groves and hillsides of avocado trees fly past in the window, thinking absently of Oregon.

After hopping from their first bus onto the next (with ten minutes spent standing and sweating in the sun in between), Dipper could start to notice the scenery change. Things got greener, and sagebrush gave way to taller trees, various towering evergreens. They’d lost sight of the ocean quite a while ago, being replaced by steadily growing mountains to the west.

It was afternoon when they stepped off of the second bus, officially in Oregon, dropped off on a bus stop at the edge of some small, rundown town. Dipper breathed in the thick, cool air as they waited for their final bus to arrive and whisk them off to Gravity Falls. Mabel snapped photos of the surrounding woods and grimy industrial neighborhoods, grinning excitedly. When a bus arrived, spitting black exhaust and creaking loudly to a halt in front of them, front screen reading “To Gravity Falls” over and over in scrolling, chunky letters, the twins looked at each other, excitement on their faces. Every time they went back to Gravity Falls, it was a little hard to believe the town had ever really existed, and every time they were reminded that it really did exist, as their bus made its way down winding, back-country roads, it felt like they could do anything.

As they got closer and closer to the town, Dipper watched the woods and meadows around them, hoping to spot some sign of the supernatural as they got slowly nearer.

When they passed the faded “Welcome to Gravity Falls” road sign, and rounded the bend, Mabel gasped with excitement and snapped a photo of the town, stretching out below them as their bus made its slow way down the winding mountain road. From this vantage point, you could see everything: the almost infinite, deep green pine forests that blanketed the mountains in every direction, the town’s oddly-shaped cliffs, the old wooden water towers, the lakes, ponds and rivers sprinkled around the landscape, shining teal in the late summer light, and the town itself, clusters of gray and brown buildings and lines of telephone poles looking as if they’d just sprung up one day like weeds, chaotic and prolific.

Mabel turned in her seat to face Dipper, huge smile on her face. “We’re here!” She squealed.

Dipper grinned, ”Yeah...” He looked out, again, over the town they were quickly approaching, “It’s so good to be back!”

Stan was waiting for them when they got off the bus, each twin lugging a summer’s worth of luggage behind them. Soos and Wendy appeared from behind Stan, not wanting to miss the chance to greet the twins on their first day of summer.

“Dudes!” Soos scooped them immediately into a huge bear hug, while Wendy carried their bags to the car. “How have you dudes been? Oh man, so much has happened since you guy’s last visited, you’re gonna flip!” He cheered, trapped twins laughing.

“Alright, alright, enough huggin’” Stan berated. “If you hug them to death, I’m the one getting blamed.”

But no sooner than Soos released the twins, Stan had grabbed them, bestowing the traditional great uncle noogeing.

“Ah, it’s great to see you kids again!” Stan said, ruffling their hair.

“Grunkle Stan, if you noogie us to death, you’re still getting blamed for it.” Mabel protested, and Stan relented, letting them go. Mabel just attack-hugged him back.

“How’s it feel to be back?” Wendy sauntered up, finished loading their bags into Stan’s dented old car, and offered a high five.

Dipper high fived her back, grin spreading across his face. “It feels great!”

“You’ll have to tell me all about California and your school year once we get back to the shack.” Wendy insisted.

“Not after you tell me how college has been!”

“Heh. Deal.”

“Come on, come on, come on!” Mabel sped past the two of them, leaping into the car. “I wanna get our room all set up nice, and hang out with Waddles before it gets too dark!”

Soos dutifully trotted up to the car behind her, while Stan muttered something under his breath. Dipper just smiled and followed Mabel to the car. Even though they spent the majority of their year in California, Gravity Falls still had a way of feeling like home.

“Hey, scooch over!” Wendy interrupted his train of thought, stepping into the car.

“Aw, what? Why do I _always_ have to sit in the middle seat?!”

“Smallest person goes in the middle. It’s the rules.” Mabel said, matter-of-factly.

Wendy nodded sagely.

Dipper grumbled, moving over to sit in the middle, and barely managed to buckle his seatbelt before the car roared to life and lurched forwards, peeling out into the road. Stan’s driving was an adventure in and of itself.

“Mystery Shack, here we come!” Stan announced, proudly, blowing through a stop sign.

Dipper had missed Gravity Falls.

…even if Gravity Falls sometimes meant your great uncle ignoring traffic laws and having to sit in the middle seat.


	4. Chapter 4

“…So, I think that’s about it.” Norman finished, sitting down in the shade of the house, letting his feet dig into the soft grass. “Just, you know, make sure no one breaks in and that the plants are watered and look good.”

“One question,” Neil joined him in the shade, summer sun now high and bright in the sky. “Is there like a maximum of super hardcore house parties I can have at your house, or is it just sort of a ‘have as many parties as you want’ kind of deal?”

“The maximum number is actually zero.” Norman tried to keep a stern face, but he couldn’t help but smile as Neil giggled.

“Whaat? Then why am I even housesitting for you?” He gazed mournfully into the sky.

“Because you’re a good friend?” Norman shoved him, playfully.

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Neil laughed, shoving Norman back.

Norman chuckled, and the conversation tailed off. The two of them sat, for a beat, watching the birds and insects flitting about in the garden.

“So, are you excited about going to Oregon?” Neil asked.

Norman bit his lip, pondering the question. “I dunno…” He stared off into the sky, scattered with puffy white clouds, trying to organize his thoughts. “I’m trying not to dread it too much.” He said, softly. “I’ll miss you and Selma and everyone, though. And who knows how much work it’s gonna take before we can sell the place; my dad called it a ‘fixer-upper’, and he thinks that the holes in our gutter give it character!”

“That, or he’s just being smart and saving money by not paying someone to fix the gutter.”

Norman chuckled, “Well, I’m still a little worried. Being cooped up in some tiny hick town with my parents and sister for the summer would make anyone nervous. Plus, a potentially nightmarish house?”

Neil patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. It can’t be that awful, or like, health code people would have torn it down by now. Or something.”

Norman looked skeptical.

“At least we can Skype or text a bunch. You _better_ Sskype and text me a bunch.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t make it through the summer if I couldn’t complain to you about stuff.”

“Well let’s hope there’s not _too_ much to complain about. That’s still a possibility, you know. I bet it’s a super cool town, with like, deer and wolves and stuff.” Neil tried to reassure him. “Ooh, take pictures for me! _Especially_ of any deer or wolves you find.

That earned a smile from Norman. “Alright, but I’m just warning you, the wolves might be a slight long shot.”

“Wolves or _bust_ , Norman.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll look for wolves.” Norman laughed.

“That’s the spirit!” Neil cheered.

“But if I get killed by wolves-“ Norman started, interrupted suddenly by his mom calling from the open window.

“Kids! You want some lunch?”

“I could eat something!” Norman yelled back. He turned to Neil “You hungry?”

“No, I gotta get back home, I said I’d be back before one.”

“Aww, what?” Norman complained.

“Sorry, dude. Summer yardwork and stuff.” Neil sat up, dusting grass and dirt off of his shorts.

“Well, maybe we can hang out again before I leave?” Norman followed Neil inside the house.

“Yeah, definitely!” Neil made his way to the front door. “I’ll see when I’m free.”

“Alright.” Norman said, his mother peering over his shoulder at the retreating Neil.

“Bye, Mrs. Babcock! I promise I’ll take care of your house while you’re gone!” Neil waved, slamming the door behind him as he left.

“He had to go already?” Sandra asked after the closed door.

“Yeah, busy I guess.” Norman shrugged, sitting down at the dinner table.

“Well, I’m sorry you won’t be able to spend much time with your friends this summer.” She slid a plate of apple and oranges slices to him.

“It’s fine.” Norman assured her, taking an apple wedge.

“Ooh, that reminds me… I’ve got to stop the paper. And do something about our mail. I’ve sent a check off to the power and water company, but we’ll need to make sure everything’s working before we fly out there.” His mom bustled about the kitchen as she talked, always busy. “Apparently, the cabin’s been out of use for quite a while.”

“Huh.” Norman said, just to add something.

“Turns out, old Donald Prenderghast didn’t even live near Oregon when he died. Florida, that’s where he was! But anyway, the house on the property should be perfectly fine once we get everything turned back on.” Sandra assured him. “Though we won’t have internet or TV hooked up.”

Norman frowned at little at this, but looked on the optimistic side. With any luck, they’d get reception up there, and the family had sprung for unlimited data after they realized how much Courtney used. He could still talk to Neil and people online, probably.

“I should set up a packing list, too!” Sandra said, mostly to herself. “Oh! Norman.”

Norman looked up in the middle of an orange slice. “What?”

“You know, you could write letters to your friends back home over the summer! It would be so cute, and fun.”

“Letters?” Norman asked.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I wrote letters to all my friends when I was your age. It gives you something to do, and memories to look back on when you’re older!”

Norman considered the idea. It didn’t sound like he would be doing much else over the summer anyways. “Yeah, that could be fun.”

His mom grinned and gave him a thumbs up, before leaving to the office, busying herself with a pile of files and papers.

Norman went back to eating the snacks his mom had prepared, wondering if he should try and find out the new house’s address or tell Neil he should write to him. It sounded quaint, and slightly silly. But if it saved him from spending his summer bored out of his mind in some decaying old farmhouse, maybe it was a good idea.


	5. Chapter 5

“Ah, Dipper, it’s exactly like how I remember it!” Mabel was ahead of him, pushing open the door to the attic to marvel at their home for the summer.

Dipper stepped past her, into the room, as she gazed excitedly around. It was exactly like he remembered it, too. Evening light filtered in through the triangular window, illuminating the dust motes he and Mabel had kicked up as they walked. The floorboards, worn smooth over the years, creaked under their feet, as the two of them walked into the room. On Mabel’s side, the slanted ceiling was still plastered with sun-bleached posters of pop stars and kittens. And on either side of the room, pressed against their respective walls, sat beds, their minimalist white sheets and single pillow carefully made and smoothed. Dipper wondered who in the shack was tidy or careful enough to make their beds for them.

Probably Soos.

Mabel didn’t take long to admire the smoothed out bedsheets, though, immediately kicking her shoes off and jumping onto the bed in mismatched, multicolored socks, setting to work fixing up her little corner of the shack.

Dipper lugged his suitcase and duffle up onto his own, tidily made bed, pulling a few things of his own out to set on the bedside table. Pens, notebook, phone and charger. He found his laptop, too, as he rummaged, and, without a better place to put it, stuffed it temporarily under the bed. When he found what he was looking for—the journal—he set it out on the bed, letting it fall open to some random page. The old book was ragged now with bookmarks, dog-ears, doodles in the margins (some were, in his defense, in the book before he found it) and rambling post-it-note additions. He thumbed through it, looking for circled or highlighted things, phenomena and creatures he’d been wanting to investigate once he got back. One such page, with a dried 32-leaf clover taped to it, reminded him of something.

He tossed the book on the bed, hopping to the ground to fish around on the floor, trying to find the right board. Mabel watched him, briefly, as she unpacked her things.

It took encountering quite a few dust bunnies and scraps of forgotten trash on the floor, before Dipper found what he was trying for: a floorboard, half as short as the rest and wobbling under his touch. The panel lifted away as he grabbed it, revealing a hidden little space. He’d found the hiding spot late during their first visit to gravity falls, and didn’t think much of it. Whatever was in it before had been gone for a while, the cache only full of dust and a few cobwebs (complete with dead spiders). But before he and Mabel had left, Dipper, without room in his suitcase to take all of his findings home, had hastily shoved the collection of small supernatural artifacts he’d ended up accumulating over the summer, under the floorboards, hoping he’d get a chance to retrieve them someday.

For every summer since, Dipper always ended with a sizable amount of interesting objects by the end of he and Mabel’s adventuring. Unlike the trinkets Grunkle Stan sold, these were real, actual proof of the odd occurrences is Gravity Falls: A pterodactyl tooth, a scrap of yeti fur, photographic proof of a pterodactyl-yeti hybrid, things like that.

Now that he’d found what he was looking for, Dipper pulled out the odd collection of objects and ephemera that he’d begun to hoard, spreading them out on the bedside table-turned-work-desk. A bird skull with three eye sockets, a crystal that slowly glowed every color of the rainbow, and a dried carnivorous flower, teeth still sticking out pearly-white, sat amongst his little collection, the whole hoard staring out at him.

He glanced around the room, from his bed, already messy and scattered with clothing, books and oddities, to Mabel’s side, which she was just finishing decorating. She’d already put up several new posters, of her recent crushes and obsessions, pictures of actresses and K-pop stars alike staring down at the room alongside brightly-colored pride flags and patterned chinese lanterns. She’d just finished hanging up a string of star-colored fairly lights when Grunkle Stan called “Dinner!”

“Coming!” She called back, hopping off of the bed and pausing only to set down an armful of stuffed animals on her bed, patting each on the head.

“Good, this food’s gettin’ colder every moment!” Came Grunkle Stan’s reply.

“Race you to the table.” Mabel grinned at Dipper as she thundered down the stairs, shaking the whole house.

Dipper grinned back, leaving his luggage sprawled across the room as he gave chase.

Even though they’d been in Gravity Falls for only a few hours, it felt perfect and familiar again. Things changed, from summer to summer, but Gravity Falls always felt like this little respite, a place where things were somehow calm and happy, yet full of infinite potential and the thrill of danger. The days were long and lazy and filled with the sound of Cicadas buzzing in the trees, and the nights were cool and dangerous, full of glowing lights in the sky and the sounds of creatures much, much bigger than anything else, travelling through the dark woods.

And right now, every potential adventure, discovery and excitement this town had to offer was ahead of the both of them. Dipper felt a flutter of excitement in his chest. This summer was going to be _awesome_ , he thought, as he sat down at the dinner table, mind far away in the woods and secret places of the town. He ate quickly, only partially paying attention to Grunkle Stan and Mabel’s conversation, instead finding himself thinking hopefully about the adventures and mysteries they might uncover this year.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so long please forgive me for my sins.
> 
> but im also gonna try and stick to a rough update schedule from now on! posting mondays, wednesdays and fridays if i can manage it! i mean, i write plenty. its just the editing and posting part that's been snagging me up, heh.

Norman sighed. He was lying in his bed, surrounded by luggage and scattered clothing. Packing was going dismally, and downstairs his parents were radiating stress about the trip.

His phone chirped, and he glanced at it. Neil had messaged him.

[12:38 PM] **neil** : hey

[12:38 PM] **Norman** **Babcock** : Hey.

[12:38 PM] **neil** : whats up?

[12:39 PM] **Norman** **Babcock** : Failing at packing; family running around and being crazy.

[12:39 PM] **neil** : :^C

[12:40 PM] **neil** : wanna come over to my house?

[12:40 PM] **neil** : we could play video games or something

[12:41 PM] **Norman** **Babcock** : That sounds great but I don’t know if I can. I’ll see if my dad’s okay with it.

Norman sat up, feeling guilty at the thought of abandoning his packing and stressing family.

But he wasn’t making much progress anyway.

He pocketed his phone and headed down to the living room, where Courtney was talking agitatedly on the phone with someone (probably sorority business, Norman thought) and his parents were fretting over paperwork and half-packed luggage.

“Can I go to Neil’s?” Norman asked.

His dad looked up, “Are you finished packing?”

“No…”

“Perry.” Sandra put an arm on the stern-looking man. He glared back at her, until she said. “Norman needs to take over the keys and our information anyways.”

Perry sighed, looking resigned, and looked back to Norman. “Alright, but don’t spend too long, kid. You’ve got a lot of packing to do, and we’re getting up and out bright and early tomorrow.”

“I won’t be out late.” Norman promised.

“Good.”

Norman sat down on the stairs, pulling on his shoes.

“And Norman.” Sandra said, handing Norman a few pieces of paper, an envelope, and the spare house keys. “These are for Neil.”

“Cool.” Norman said, grabbing them and heading out. “Bye! I’ll be back soon.” He promised, shutting the door behind him.

He let go of the breath he’d been holding, now that he was away from all the packing and chaos, and looked out over the street and rows of suburban houses in his neighborhood. The summer heat baked down on small green lawns and tidy fences, and all of the usual ghosts were out and about, watching the living as they went about their business. Neil’s house wasn’t too far from Norman’s, so Norman didn’t even bother grabbing a bike, deciding a nice calming walk would do him good.

He reached Neil’s house sooner than he realized, too lost in thought to register the passage of time, and before Norman could even go up to knock, Neil was waving at him through the window.

“Hey!” Neil greeted him at the door, pulling him inside. “So, whadda you wanna do?”

Norman shrugged. “Whatever’s fine, I guess.”

“Cool, cool.”

“My mom told me to give these to you.” Norman handed over the papers and keys.

“Sweet.” Neil said, glancing at the list of chore reminders, emergency contact info, and light and sprinkler timers.

“That’s our house key,” Norman pointed to the bigger of the few keys he’d handed Neil. “And that’s for the shed, and the back gate.”

Neil nodded, still reading down the to-do list. Mrs. Babcock had been very thorough. “Got it!”

“And I think this is probably money.” Norman said, handing over the envelope to Neil.

“Woah, you didn’t tell me I was actually getting paid.”

Norman laughed, a little. “Of course, you are. It’s probably nowhere close to minimum wage, but-“

Neil was already opening the envelope, “Hey, you know what this means!”

“No…?”

“We gotta go buy candy and snacks from the dollar store!”

Norman looked amused, “Or you could maybe save up.”

“Pfft. I’m not gonna spend _all_ of it, anyway. But it’s your last day here! The last chance we’re gonna have to hang out until, like, _school year time_.” Neil grabbed Norman’s arm. “We _have_ to get candy and snacks, it’s a special occasion!”

“Alright, alright.” Norman conceded, following Neil as he dragged the other boy out of the house. “But I didn’t bring money.”

Neil waved the envelope in his hands. “One, you did, and two, I’m buying.” He grinned back.

Norman laughed. “Thanks.”

“Hey, no prob.”

“Not just for the money. Thanks for giving me something else to do.” Norman clarified, sincere. “I was planning on spending all day worrying about this trip and bustling around with my worked-up family.”

“Yeah, well.” Neil said. “I know how it is. Plus, I probably would’ve cried if I only got to hang out with you, like, _once_ all summer.”

“So, hanging out with me only _twice_ all summer is fine and dandy?”

“Well, I’ll take what I can get.”

They walked in silence the short rest of the way into town, heading towards the dollar store.

Neil waved his hands at the automatic sliding doors as they entered, miming opening them from afar., and Norman realized how hot it was outside when they stepped in, the blast of cold from the well air conditioned store making him shiver out of surprise more than anything. Neil ran ahead to the candy isle.

“What do you want?” Neil asked, grabbing a package of Redvines and some sour gummies from the shelves.

“I dunno.” Norman said. “I’m not very hungry.”

“You _never_ are.” Neil complained. “First name Skin, last name Bones.” Neil poked the other boy in the side, to make his point.

Norman giggled. “Hey, watch it.”

“I’m just sayin’. You’re a beanpole.” Neil shook his head, sadly. “Hey, how about these?” Neil asked, grabbing a bag of candy that seemed to be catering to the appeal of gross-out food.

Norman squinted at the package, claiming in bold letters, ‘Gooey, realistic bugs! Creepy Candy! Spooky Sweets!’. Norman thought it was criminal to use the word ‘icky’ this many times on one container, the bag decorated with clip-art zombies and centipedes, looking to be full of a medley of marshmallow eyeballs, chocolate bugs and gummy brains.

“Hah, alright.” Norman had always had a love of spooky things, especially of the more overdone and ridiculous kind.

Neil looked proud. “That’s it. One day, we will beef up this scrawny boy.”

“You will never beef me up.” Norman said, defiant.

“Shh. Believe it.” Neil said, heading past Norman to grab chex mix and kettle corn.

Norman wandered, absently, after him, stopping to flip through a spinning stand of postcards. Most of them were witch-themed. “Hey, Neil.”

“What?” Neil asked, holding an armful of puffy chip bags.

“My mom suggested I write letters back home from Gravity Falls.”

“Dude, neat!”

“Yeah, well, we won’t have internet up in the house, apparently. And I dunno if reception will be good enough to text.”

“Norman, I _will_ cry if I can’t talk to you at all over summer.”

“I know,” Norman said. “Me too. I’ll try and text you whenever I can.”

“Good.” Neil said. “But… letters would be cool, if you wanted to write them.”

“I’ll definitely send over any weird, campy post-cards I can find.” Norman laughed.

“Dude, yes!” Neil was enthusiastic, now. “And we could send like any other cool stuff that could fit in an envelope. It would be fun!”

Norman smiled. “Yeah. So it’s a plan?”

“Yeah!” Neil grinned, then let his expression drop to something more serious. “But, also, do text me. I might die if I had to wait 2-7 business days for a reaction each time I sent you a cool meme.”

Norman laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try my best.”

“You done shopping?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sweet. Lemme buy this stuff and we can go back to my house and party hard.”

Norman nodded, handing back over the ‘Tricky Treats’ Neil had handed him.

Neil checked out, handing over some of his housesitting pay to the cashier, and plopped one of the plastic grocery bags into Norman’s arms afterwards.

The hot day hit them as they walked out of the convenience store, back into the sun and up the hill to Neil’s house.

“So, what’s the address of this place you’ll be at? So we can pen pal it up.” Neil asked, once they were outside and trudging back in the direction of his house.

“Oh, uh. I think I have it somewhere.” Norman fished around in his pockets, pulling out his phone. He knew he’d written a note somewhere.” 9116 Lodgepole Road.”

“Ooh, have you google maps’d it?”

“Uh, what?”

“Have you looked it up on streetview or anything?” Neil asked, excited.

Norman shook his head. “No.”

“Dude, you should! Then you can stop worrying about what it’s gonna be like and start being excited about the cool place that you’re going to.”

“Yeah.” Norman said, looking hopeful. “That’d be cool.”

“Alright, we’re heading straight to the computer when we get back. Candy and google earth party, here we come.”

Norman laughed, running a little to catch up with his excited friend. “Sounds good.”

A few mintues later the two of them were lying on Neil’s bed, sodas and snacks in hand, as his computer booted up.

“I’m actually a little bit jealous.” Neil said, opening google maps. “You’re going on this whole big summer adventure to _Oregon_ with your family! It’s awesome.”

Norman looked skeptical, “You say that, but you’re not the person who has to spend his summer fixing up a broken down house.”

“Dude, it’s a mysterious abandoned property! In a cool new town! You can meet so many new people and go on adventures and stuff!”

“You make it sound like it’s going to be some epic and/or slasher movie-esque ordeal.”

“Well there might at least be some cool ghosts to meet!”

“Yeah, but for me, that’s normal.” Norman munched on a handful of popcorn.

Neil shook his head, and grumbled jokingly, “Damn mediums, always doin’ cool paranormal stuff. Not even excited about seeing the undead or proof of an afterlife.”

Norman chuckled through a mouthful of sugary snack food. He was definitely going to miss hanging out with Neil.

“Okay, here we go.” Neil said, typing the address in.

Only a handful of small-looking roads surrounded the spot on the map where 9116 Lodgepole Road was supposedly situated, confirming Norman’s suspicions.

“Way out in the middle of nowhere.” He sighed, as Neil zoomed in to satellite imaging.

The landscape, from above, looked green and expansive. A couple of overgrown dots—sheds or houses, Norman assumed—could be seen through the trees, and the only roads around looked to be dirt.

“Hey, looks like you have a pond!” Neil said, leaning towards the screen. Indeed there was a splotch of muddy blue somewhere on what was probably the property, obscured by trees.

“Hmm.” Norman said. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed-this was pretty much what he’d been expecting.

But Neil sounded excited, “Let’s go to street view!”

Street view didn’t reveal much more of the property, but it did reveal the landscape: lush and overgrown at the time it was photographed, forested with pines and low, sprawling bushes. What the map had marked as the property was really just a gravel road, now mostly grown over by grass and obscured by leaf litter, that headed up from the fenced property line. At the end of the aged-looking road, hard to see behind the trees, was what looked to be a small cabin. Norman figured that would be where they were staying. But it was hard to make out anything more than a few rusted mailboxes and the wire fence running along the outside of the homestead, scattered with ‘No Tresspassing’ signs, from the street. The image was too grainy and low-resolution.

“Dude, cool! It’s all rustic and spooky looking!” Neil was optimistic.

“I guess.”

“Aw, Norm.” Neil closed the tab. “I’m sorry. I just thought getting a good look at it would help.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Norman assured him. “It… did help, in some ways. Now I can’t picture it as a broken-down horror film set _or_ a pretty mansion, though.”

Neil patted him on the shoulder. “Well, your summer there will probably be over before you know it. Try and think positive, anyways! You never know what stuff you could find out there. Maybe your great-grandpa had, like, a hoard of gold coins buried over there, or something!”

“Okay, maybe.

“Hey, what’d I tell you? Positivity.” Neil said, feigning stern-ness.

Norman rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Okay. There’s definitely a hoard of gold coins buried there.”

“That’s the spirit!” Neil said. “Now, come on, you wanna play Smash Bros?”

“Yes, because I will win.”

“I must warn you, I’ve been practicing!”

Norman hopped off of the bed, following Neil down to the TV. “You’re on!”

 

Norman’s phone buzzed, hours later, as Neil was lying on the floor surrounded by Wii remotes, Norman laughing maniacally.

“How are you so good at video games?” Neil had complained.

“Play as Metaknight. That’s all there is to it.”

Neil had shaken his head.

“It’s Courtney.” Norman said, looking at his phone. She’d texted him to come home.

“Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Norman said, picking himself up off of the floor and stepping around the mess of remote controls and empty snack bags they’d scattered around.

Norman, tidied up the mess, a little, as he went, piling the controllers in their own place and picking up crumpled candy wrappers as he made his way out of the living room.

“Well, thank you for hanging out with me, even though your day’s been busy as hell.” Neil said, tailing Norman to the door.

“Thank _you_ for giving me an excuse to get away from the chaos.” Norman said. “See you… in a few months, I guess.”

Neil hugged him. “Tell me when you get to Gravity Falls. And if the house is a horrific death mansion after all, I wanna hear all about that too!”

Norman smiled. “Will do.”

“Bye!” Neil waved at him from the door, as Norman made his way down the driveway and back towards his house.

“Bye!” Norman called back.

It was almost evening, now, sun slanting through the surrounding houses and trees, the pavement still hot from the day but the air gradually beginning to cool. He glanced around at the last Blithe Hollow sunset he would see in a while, and hoped absently his family wouldn’t be too frantic when he got back, and that he could find it in him to pack quickly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short dipper and mabel chapter! i just got through editing the next handful of chapters, and i am 1) excited about stuff to come and 2) very, very sorry that i'm taking so long to have the characters actually meet... OTL
> 
> on the bright side im having a lot of fun writing this stuff and i think i'll be able to stick to the three-chapters-a-week update schedule (i kinda want to post even more than that, but i don't wanna burn myself out, so~~)

They had been in Gravity Falls for two days, and Mabel had already knitted Waddles three different pig-outfits.

Dipper was lying on his bed, laptop on his stomach, when Mabel barged in, trailing glitter and an excited pig.

“Now, Waddles, sit right there while I take pictures.” Mabel instructed the animal, lifting him up (not without a struggle, as Waddles had grown quite a bit since their first summer) onto the bed and searching for her camera.

Dipper typed a response as she snapped pictures and put various hats on Waddles. He was talking with Prender about the existence of zombies—and, for once, they were in agreement that zombies were entirely possible. Well, in Dipper’s case, he’d raised the dead himself, so he knew they were not only possible, but have existed at least once before. But the other guy still agreed with Dipper, which was a surprise. He was usually skeptical and contrary, finding ways to poke holes in the cases for any sort of supernatural phenomenon (excluding, Dipper noted, ghosts and zombies).

“Hey Dipper watcha doin’?” Mabel asked, loudly, right next to his ear.

Dipper moved to shove his computer off of his lap. “Not much.”

“Who’re you talkin’ to?” Mabel grabbed the computer back up off of the bed, trying to look at it.

“Hey-“ Dipper repossessed his computer, guarding it. “Just someone on the forums.”

“Your _friieeeend?_ ” Mabel asked. “The one who’s coming to Gravity Falls?”

Dipper looked troubled. “Yeah.”

“You still didn’t tell him that we’re in Gravity Falls, too, did you?”

Dipper sighed, looking more frustrated with himself than anything. “No. It just hasn’t seemed like a good time to, and then as time went on it just seemed weird to bring it up, and neither of us have even talked about Gravity Falls since, and-“

Mabel shushed him, putting a finger to his mouth. “Dipper, Dipper, Dipper. It’s alright. You can talk to him and tell him the truth if you want to, and if you’re totally honest and come clean what could go wrong?”

“Lots of thin-“

“But if you don’t want to that’s fine, too. Just don’t let silly worries hold you back!”

Dipper looked thoughtful. “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

“But how should I know if it’s a good idea? I barely know this guy, really, outside of random chatting. I don’t know _who_ he is or if he’s, like, a criminal!”

“Pfft, look on the bright side, Dipper!” Mabel said. “Statistically, he’s not.”

“He’s a frequent user on a paranormal/cryptid/supernatural forum.”

“So are _you_.”

“Yeah, but I’m not weird.”

Mabel raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m not _super_ weird!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW we're finally gettin' somewhere.

Norman had packed and gone to bed early as he could, woken up at some ungodly hour by his family. Apparently, cheap last-minute plane tickets meant getting up earlier than any human should and lots and lots of layovers.

By the time the whole family had gotten dressed, eaten and scrambled frantically to load their bags and get going, the sky was still cool and pale in the early morning.

Norman watched tiredly from the window of their small car as fields and woods flew past. Ghosts of old farmers still tended their fields, and phantom deer and raccoon wandered the edge of roads, watching wide-eyed at the passing cars. He rested his head against the window, trying to catch up on sleep, but instead he just looked out at the green hills and patches of woodland, mind wandering aimlessly. Even Courtney was subdued, staring sleepily at her phone as they drove.

The airport, thankfully, wasn’t a very long drive away, but they had to park outside and take a shuttle in. Norman winced as people bumped past him as they filed onto the bus, lugging baggage and sleepy, complaining children behind them.

Norman paid more attention to the ghosts around the airport than the living people as they got boarding passes and slowly filtered through to their gate. The airport was old and on the smaller side, full of ghosts of past wars and eras, sticking out painfully alongside the 70s-era architecture. Ghostly flocks of sparrows and pigeons roosted on the wings of planes and, on occasion, on the chairs and windowsills of the airport.

By the time the whole family collapsed on the benches surrounding the gate, it was lighter out, early morning sun slanting through the tinted windows and hitting the scattered airplanes and personnel running around on the tarmac.

Norman tuned out the scattered chatter of his family and the surrounding noise of the airport, watching absently as the other passengers slowly congregated around the gate.

By the time they finally got to their seats and the plane took off, Norman had fallen asleep in his seat, only waking up blearly when their plane landed, and he was herded off to their next connecting flight.

He noted, as they rushed to catch their plane, that this airport was much bigger, and newer. And the ghosts here were fewer and further apart.

When they finally boarded their last plane, to some town in Oregon, the sky there was still light, but the sun was starting to fade behind a layer of overcast clouds.

Once they landed in Oregon, they took a taxi the rest of the way.

“So when we get to Gravity Falls, we’ll rent a car there for everyday use...” Sandra was saying.

“Rental cars are too expensive!” Perry complained.

 “Well, we do have some money from the inheritance to cover our travel costs.” Sandra continued. “And things in Gravity Falls are very affordable.”

Courtney nodded, saying something about the cost of living in small towns going down, down, down.

Norman tuned out the conversation, watching out of the window and breathing in the thick, unfamiliar air. He looked for the ghosts in the forests, looking out at long-dead owls and people from many, many different eras. Their deaths were evident on their skin and in the places where their bodies should’ve been, but they didn’t seem to notice, or care.

By the time they passed a worn sign welcoming them to Gravity Falls, Norman was too tired to realize something was missing.

They got fast-food from some chain he didn’t recognize the name of, greasy and too-salty, and drove up in the rattiest rental car he’d ever encountered to the old property they’d inherited. They were all weary, and tired, cautiously heading down the last leg of their journey.

Perry got out of the car, struggling with the padlock on the gate over the road in to the cabin, swearing as he finally broke the rusted chains holding it closed.

Norman looked around the woods surrounding the house. It was hard to make much out, now, as the sun was just setting, painting the sky in purples and oranges.

When they walked into the house—unbelievably dusty but otherwise tidy and mostly untouched by weather and time, Norman tossed his luggage to the ground with a clunk, and sighed with relief. At least the whole travelling part was over.

“Oh, look at these cobwebs!” Sandra worried, searching for a broom.

Norman was just grateful to have a roof over their heads, as he and Courtney wandered off to explore the house.

It was a small house, reminiscent of a log cabin. Norman figured a few of the rooms were additions, as it didn’t look as uniform as a house--even an old one--should. The place seemed like someone had made it up perfectly, even though dust and cobwebs and creaking doors made it obvious it hadn’t been lived in in quite some time.

But, just like his mom had promised, everything was working fine. They had running water, at least of the cold variety (who knew the verdict on the water heater), and they had electricity.

Even though there was a perfectly good bed in what appeared to be the main bedroom, Norman’s mom pulled out sleeping bags and foam pads for the floor, warning of bed bugs.

It was only hours later, after the whole family spent several hours cleaning up the house and chasing off any spiders or mice that had made their home there, as Norman was falling asleep to the sound of his dad snoring and some sort of animal yowling in the distance, that he realized what had been bothering him from the moment they’d first set foot in Gravity Falls.

Since they’d been in the town, he hadn’t seen a single ghost.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a little late. real life hit hard yesterday and so my whole family is reeling. but i kind of feel like posting two chapters today anyway, since this one is pretty short, so keep an eye out...?

“Up at at ‘em, kids!” Grunkle Stan yelled in the general vicinity of the attic, clanging around in the kitchen in case that wasn’t enough. “The Mystery Shack opens early today!”

Dipper rubbed his face, slowly shaking off the haze of sleep. He sat up, glancing at the clock on the bedside table that read 7:02.

He yawned, figuring he ought to get up. From the smell of smoke and the distant sound of swearing coming from the kitchen, he guessed Stan must’ve been cooking breakfast.

Mabel tossed her covers off, jumping to the floor and stretching.

“Morning, Dipper.” She said.

“Morning.” He replied, heading off to brush his teeth.

When they sat down at the dinner table, Mabel with her hair brushed and tidied and sporting a new outfit, ready for the day, and Dipper, still in his pajamas but wearing a hat this time, Stan presented them with scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Mornin’, knuckleheads.” He sat down, sipping his cranberry juice. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” Mabel said through a mouthful of eggs.

Dipper nodded, nibbling at his bacon.

“Well, I hope you two are ready for the day. Today’s booked with tour busses and it’s promising to be a great sales day, so I’ll need the both of you on the floor. Capisce?”

“Ready and willing!” Mabel saluted.

“And I’m assuming we’ll get paid, so I’m in.” Dipper added.

“Woah, woah. I give you _room and board_ and you want more money from me?”

“Hey, we’re 16 now- what’d I say, Dipper?”

“You said that since it’s legal for us to work, we should be paid.”

“Yeah!”

Grunkle stan chuckled. “Alright, alright. I can’t be mad at anyone so passionate about money. I’ll work somethin’ out. But don’t go expecting me to make you all billionaires.”

“Spending money!” Mabel cheered.

“We will not disappoint you.” Dipper promised.

“You better not, because if I’m actually hiring you then I have the right to fire you as well!”

Mabel laughed. “You know you could never fire _me._ ”

“Don’t test me.” Grunkle Stan deadpanned, walking off to deposit his dishes in the sink and get dressed.

“Woo! Cash!” Mabel turned to high-five Dipper.

“Some small potential amount of cash!” Dipper cheered.

“Well, Shack opens in forty.” Mabel remarked. “I should get ready.”

Dipper glanced down at his outfit – worn pajama shorts and the t-shirt he wore yesterday. “I probably should, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i am sorry this is late as well, i kinda just procrastinated on editing and posting it all day ._.

Norman had been woken early, by loud talking and noisy cleaning. Pale morning sunlight filtered through the window as his family bustled and argued, worrying about something or other.

“Perry, it looks like a relic, are we sure it’ll work?”

“If it doesn’t, that’s a problem for whoever buys the place. If it’ll do for now, keep it.”

“But maybe it’s got some sort of bad insulation in it, we should be careful!”

“It’s a fridge, Sandra. As long as it’s cold, it’s fine by me.”

Norman sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, glancing around at the house. It looked different in full daylight, somehow. The high windows were streaked with dust and cobwebs, made all the more evident by the light filtering through them. The fireplace, surely unused for years, was black with smoke and charcoal, and there was stains in the high ceiling where there must’ve been leaks in the roofing, letting water come through to warp and discolor the wood.

“Augh!” Courtney shrieked from another room. “This shower’s _horrible_!”

“We’ll have to do a deep clean of everything before we do anything else!” Sandra shouted back. “And that includes showering.”

“ _Ugh!_ ”

“Go ahead and take the shower curtains and showerhead off right now and set it aside to be cleaned!” Sandra suggested.

“It doesn’t have _either_ of those things in the first place!”

“Oh.” Sandra said. But Courtney’s sentence made Norman pause.

“ _Ghosts_.” He whispered, remembering his train of thought from last night. He still had yet to see a single ghost in this town.

“Hmm?” Sandra asked, turning to him.

“Good morning.” Perry said, gruffly, wrestling with the leaky kitchen sink.

“How are you?” Sandra dusted herself off and got up from where she was working on the house.

“Fine.” Norman mumbled, mind elsewhere.

Courtney returned to the room, in a rumpled sports tee and exercise shorts, looking irritated and bedraggled.

As Norman rummaged through his luggage, looking for his toothbrush, Courtney sat down with a heavy sigh at the table, chair creaking threateningly under her weight. She pulled out her phone, looking dismal.

But her expression brightened suddenly. “Wow! We get perfect cell reception up here!”

“Really?” Norman asked, suddenly feeling much more hopeful about their ‘vacation’.

“Yeah. Shocking, really. I didn’t see a single cell tower around here, but there it is.”

“Mhm.” Norman mumbled, pulling his phone out to check. She was right. He also checked to see if Neil had sent him anything. He had.

Courtney put her phone down on the dining room table with a thud a few minutes later, “So what’s for breakfast?”

“Well, we hadn’t really decided.” Sandra said. “But until we make sure the utilities here are running as they should, we can’t cook.”

“We also have no groceries or food in the house.” Perry added.

Courtney grumbled.

Norman paid closer attention to his phone, avoiding potential familiar drama by scrolling through the anecdotes and links Neil had sent him.

After twenty more minutes of his dad clanging around in the kitchen and swearing at things, Sandra stepped in.

“It’s been a rough morning, and it was rough travelling yesterday. We should go out someplace to eat, give ourselves some time to recover!”

Perry grumbled, “We need to get this house in shape if we want to survive more than a few days.”

“The house will be here later, Perry. For now, we should drive into town and get some food.”

He obliged, begrudgingly, as he wiped his dirty hands off on a rag.

“C’mon, gang!” Sandra cheered.

Courtney looked equally relieved at the thought of food and the thought of being someplace other than this house, and distressed at the fact she still hadn’t been able to shower. Norman just sent over one last text to Neil “Call me whenever you’re free!” and grabbed something acceptable-looking to wear.

They piled into the car ten minutes later, looking like a rather greasy and sleepy family, and set off down the pot hole-filled road, rental car rattling alarmingly along.

They stopped at the first restaurant-looking place they could find, a big log-shaped diner boasting of ‘the best pancakes in Gravity Falls!’.

“It’s so cute and quaint!” Sandra had commented on its appearance while they filed inside.

The diner was filled with the smell of bacon grease and mediocre coffee, and full of noisy, rowdy people.

As they found their way to a booth, Norman watched the townsfolk around him. They all seemed to be larger than life, talking enthusiastically amongst themselves.

The waitress came over to take their order, with poofy hair and an eye that drooped closed periodically.

“What can I get for you all now?”

“Coffee. Black. And some scrambled eggs, please.” Norman’s dad said, handing over the menu.

“Oh, I think I will try some of those pancakes of yours! And coffee with cream.” Sandra ordered.

“I’ll just have water and the number 11 eggs and toast.” Courtney slid her menu away from her.

“I’ll have the pancakes.” Norman said. “And, uh, just water.”

The waitress—Norman could see her nametag now, reading Susan in worn letters—bundled up their menus and bustled off. “We’ll have those right out for you fine folks.”

Norman stared out the window while they waited, a day of travelling and night of uncomfortable sleep catching up with him. He watched the town from his vantage point by the window, looking out at the expanse of boring-looking buildings. Mobile homes and telephone poles stretched out amongst the small houses and monolithic malls and shops. The constant backdrop of tree-blanketed mountains brought Norman’s mind wandering back to their cabin.

Their food was back quicker than he expected, stack of steaming pancakes deposited in front of him.

He was hungrier than he thought, and ate quickly, still thinking of the cabin. He barely realized when he’d finished his breakfast.

As for the pancakes, Norman thought they might’ve been the best pancakes in Gravity Falls, but he’d still had better.

Norman continued to stare out towards the town, taking it in. He hadn’t really had a chance to observe it when they’d come into town yesterday. They were all tired and bedraggled, and the sun was sinking in the sky. But now, in the bright morning light, Norman could see the whole valley. He had to admit, as far as small hick towns go, Gravity Falls was picturesque.

He still felt like there was something missing. He’d never realized how much of a presence ghosts were, but now that he hadn’t seen one since yesterday, everything felt a little more empty than it should be.

He glanced back to the diner. His whole family had finished eating, but they still sat quietly around the table. Norman guessed that no one was eager to go back to work on the cabin.

Norman’s dad broke the silence, standing up and clearing his throat. “Well, we should be heading back. Lots of work to do today.”

There was a collective groan from the table (well, mostly it was Courtney), but they stood, waving Susan goodbye and heading to the door.

Sandra lingered, looking at the wall of posters, bulletins, ads and missing pet papers by the entrance, “Hey, would you look at this…”

Norman peeked at what she was looking at; A poster covered in horrendous clipart bragged about ‘Unseen wonders!’ and ‘Fantastical Beasts!’.

“The… ‘Mystery Shack’?” Norman read, skeptical.

“It’s the kind of spooky stuff you like!” Sandra said.

Norman couldn’t completely argue.

“What are you two looking at?” Perry had turned back towards the diner when he realized his family hadn’t followed him out of the door.

“Says it’s open early today!” Sandra did her best to convince her family.

Perry shook his head. “Places like that are just over-priced and full of fakes and hoaxes!”

“It’s a fun place to go! And we’re on vacation.”

“We’re here fixing up a house.”

“And we’re here to relax…” Sandra put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s do something silly for once! A family outing!”

Courtney wasn’t going to pass up this chance. “We should go!”

Norman nodded. He’d never really been to any spooky ‘mystery spots’ or anything. There’d been the one roadtrip to Point Pleasant, but the museum was small and not as ridiculous as he’d been expecting. Plus, he didn’t mind a reason to be away from that dusty cabin for a few more hours.

Perry sighed, the rest of his family seemingly already decided about this. “Alright, let’s go. But it better not be too pricey!”

Courtney cheered. “Yesss!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another chapter because i feel bad about forgetting to post until like 2:00 AM today, and also, because i like posting lots of chapters!
> 
> this one's not my best work honestly but hey, the plots moving now at least!

Dipper groaned, sitting behind the register, lying bored across the counter. “No one’s even here.”

Mabel sat on the floor next to him, alternating between putting stickers on Waddles and praising him for being adorable. “That’s the best part. We can do what we want!”

“What I want is to not be bored to death.” Dipper sighed, pulling his hat further over his face.

“Hey, numbskulls! Customers at three o’clock!” Grunkle Stan shouted from nearby the window, stepping towards the door and straightening his tie. “First bus of tourists, it looks like!”

Dipper sat up straighter, watching the door. Mabel continued to scratch Waddles.

Stan directed the first batch of tourists through the Mystery Shack, already started on his spiel about monsters and mysterious creatures, while Dipper tried to look professional and busy.

He’d gone back to moping and complaining a few minutes after the tourists had passed through, staring at something scratched into the counter. He distantly recognized the sound of the door creaking open, and murmured voices and shuffling footsteps.

“Ahem.” Someone said, much closer.

Dipper jumped, looking up to see a blonde girl, probably a handful of years older than him, staring him down.

“So what’s the deal with this place?” She asked, seeming underwhelmed.

“Uh- sorry- I mean” Dipper kicked himself mentally. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack! Where wonder and amazement, er, meet.”

“Uh huh. So is there a tour or something? My family was expecting, like, tourguides.” She tossed a thumb over her shoulder, at the rest of her group, who were glancing around the shack half-interestedly.

Dipper’s heart skipped a beat as he realized why the girl had looked vaguely familiar to him. On her own, with her long blonde ponytail and running shorts, Dipper wouldn’t have put the pieces together. But behind her, wandering through the aisles, was a boy with distinctively spiky brown hair, spinning through a postcard rack. His brain recognized the pair as the two people in the photograph Prender sent, and Dipper spent a moment too long staring.

“So…?” The girl stared at him, as he spaced out.

“Ah, sorry! Tour just left, but you can probably catch up with them, just head that ways!” His words came out in a rush, and he pointed towards the door Grunkle Stan had just left through.

“Thanks.” She deadpanned, “This way, dad!”

Thankfully, Mabel waited until the whole family was gone to make her comment. “Wow, new crush already? I _did_ tell you I’d get you a summer romance.”

For some reason, Dipper thought to object to the latter part of that sentence first. “Okay, you didn’t do anything to help just then. She walked in the Shack of her own, unrelated to Mabel, accord.”

“Pff.”

“And also I don’t have a new crush!” He protested, reddening.

“Suuure.”

“Really.”

“Then what was that?”

“I- that picture that I showed you. Of my internet” Dipper made air quotes “’ _friend_ ’?”

“You did indeed show me a picture.”

“Well, that girl, and that boy who was over there by the postcards and the anterabbit, I’m 98% sure they’re the people in that picture!”

“Ooh, dude…” Mabel said, look of recognition flashing over her face. “The _hair_.”

“The spiky hair.” Dipper squinted, trying to make sense of the conversation with the girl. “Well, neither of them recognized me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Hey! They _could_ still be internet creeps.”

“Dipper, please, they looked like a nice vacationing family.”

“…Yeah.” Dipper sighed, resting his head on his arm. “But it’s not like I can take back my lie at this point anyways! It’s too late.”

“Dipper…” Mabel put a hand over her heart. “It is _never_ too late for apologies.”

“I think this might be the one exception to that rule!”

“Believe in yourself!” Mabel shouted as Dipper stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just gonna… go… organize things in this dark and obscured part of the shack.”

“Are you hiding?”

“No! Just… avoiding potential confrontation.”

“Dipper, come back here!”

“It’s your turn to do cash register duty anyways! And this stuff needs to be organized no matter what-Stan told you to but you just played with Waddles all morning. Really, I’m doing you a favor.”

Mabel blew a raspberry at him as she moved to take his place in front of the counter.

“Stan has the power to fire you now, you know!” Dipper threatened.

 “He doesn’t have the heart.” Mabel giggled. Then her expression darkened. “Or the guts.”

Dipper went to work sorting through the merchandise, straightening out shelves of yeti snowglobes and bins of rare crystals that were obviously just dyed quartz. He spruced up the vase of “genuine giant eagle monster feathers” and patted them, to make sure the ink wasn’t smearing on any. He decided a while ago it was best not to tell Grunkle Stan that it was probably some sort of crime to pass off chicken feathers as eagle feathers (and a whole other crime to sell eagle feathers).

By the time Grunkle Stan led the noisy tour group back into the giftshop “And here, folks, is where you can take back a piece of this wonderful, mysterious shack! These are gen-yoo-ine supernatural artifacts, here, folks! Get ‘em while they’re hot!” Dipper had almost forgotten about his earlier woes, distracted by his quest to sort the Mystery Shack T-shirts by design, gender and size, in that order.

But as people began to mill about the room, Dipper was reminded of his quest to be unseen, and searched the crowd for anyone looking like the two kids he’d recognized. No one person immediately jumped out, but he did see who he assumed was their parents; a greying, kindly looking woman was wondering at the knickknacks for sale, while a goateed, beer-bellied man looked nonplussed.

Dipper figured he could stay unnoticed, at this rate, and turned back to organizing. He bumped into someone as he reached for a shirt hanger.

“Oh, sorry!” Whoever it was apologized, and Dipper turned to apologize right back for getting in his way.

Of course, it was the boy. The one with the spiky hair (and, Dipper noticed belatedly, the cool horror movie poster t-shirt).

“I-uh. Yup, no problem. I mean, it’s fine, it’s fine.” Dipper cleared his throat. “Sorry, I have to, uh-“ He gestured vaguely to the other side of the store, backing away slowly before turning to flee towards Mabel.

“Mabel!” He hissed, ducking behind the checkout counter for cover.

“Trying to escape the actual, physical manifestation of awkwardness you just created? Or trying to escape his hair?” Mabel asked.

“You are not helping!” Dipper stressed. “What if he recognizes me? Or, what if she recognizes me! Or any of them- _one_ of them has to be Prender.”

Mabel patted him on the head (or rather, hat). “Don’t worry, bro bro. I’ll hide you here and give you periodic updates on his status re: recognizing you, re: being here, re: leaving.”

“Thanks.”

“Update: subject is currently making faces at local Mystery Shack’s ‘authentic merch’. Either disgusted by such merch, or so amazed he has forgotten what the correct expression for ‘joy’ is, it is unclear.”

Dipper scratched Waddles, who was lying behind the counter with him as well. Stan had long ago lost the war against keeping him inside.

“Update: subject, codename Mysterious Porcupine, alarmed by something. Upon further investigation, it is something in his pocket. Ghost? Leprechaun? We may never kn- nope, it’s a phone. Subject is answering, saying something into it. Presumably: words.”

“Ooh? What’s he saying?”

“Intel unavailable. Too far away to hear, room too full of customers, or perhaps... too full of _spies_?” Mabel spoke into a nonexistent mic hidden in her sleeve.

Dipper sighed.

“Emergency transmission” Mabel mimed turning on an earpiece. “Stanford ‘Grunkle’ Pines, approaching at ten o’clock. Facial feature readouts suggest: annoyance, frustration.”

“Hey, where’s your brother?” Stan asked, looming by the counter.

“Update: demanding to know location of fellow agent, friend, brother: Dipper Pines, Codename Hat Nerd 01.”

“Hey!” Dipper protested, giving his position away.

“Kid, what are you doing on the floor?” Stan asked, leaning over the desk to stare judgmentally down at him.

“Subject questions Hat Nerd 01’s motivations, life choices.”

“Cut that out.”

“Subject ordering to cease and desist, sounds irritated.”

“I can fire both of you!”

“Update: subject delivering threat. Will this weaken the iron resolve of one girl on a mission?”

Stan glared.

“Yes, yes it will. What’s up, Stan?”

“Well, the two of you are being more weirdo-ish than usual, for one.” He grumbled. “But more importantly, that kid over there’s disturbing the customers.”

Mabel glanced in the direction Stan had jerked a thumb. It was the spiky hair boy, talking into his phone.

Dipper rolled his eyes without looking at who Stan had been pointing to.

“Howso, persay, exactly?” Mabel asked.

“He’s dissin’ the shack! And disrespecting my property. Calling my content fake in front of the whole shop! I tell you, kids these days.”

Mabel shrugged. “I can take care of him.”

“No, I need you on register duty, you’re much more amiable than Dipper.” Grunkle Stan pointed to Dipper. “Go kick him off of the premises, if you would.”

“What?! Get Wendy to do it, she’s much scarier than me!” Dipper protested.

“While you are completely right, Wendy’s on break. Do I look like a man who would violate his employee’s rights and moment of solitude?”

“Yes.” Dipper said.

“You’re just _scared_ of Wendy.” Mabel added.

“Kid, don’t drag me into any more banter. Get out there and kick him out.”

Dipper sighed, standing up. “ _Fine_.”

“That’s the spirit! Up and at ‘em!” Stan cheered. “It’s that freako in the back with the hair who’s drivin’ everyone off.”

“Wait, no.” Dipper turned, but Stan had already disappeared to talk some other sucker into buying stuff. Dipper turned, pleadingly, to Mabel.

She just grinned and gave him two thumbs up.

Dipper picked his way through the crowd, straining to catch what the boy was talking about as he got closer.

“I know, dude. Not even one. No, there were some- they were there at the airports, I don’t think it’s just… Mhm. Only Gravity Falls. Maybe I’m going crazy, but-“

Dipper cleared his throat.

“Uh, sorry, hold on-“ The boy turned, wide blue eyes meeting Dipper’s. He looked worried-just as a general affect. “Is something wrong?”

Dipper suddenly felt bad telling this guy to leave. “Umm, could you, er, have a quieter phone conversation?”

“ _DIPPER_!” Stan thundered, making Dipper jump.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I can-“ The kid started.

“Wait, sorry- could you actually just leave if you’re going to be on the phone?” Dipper winced.

The kid looked confused now, more than anything. “Hey, do I know you?”

“UHUH WHAT?” Dipper said, a little louder than necessary.

“Huh-?” The boy said, slightly alarmed.

“Nothing!” Dipper pushed him towards the door. “Thank you for visiting the Mystery Shack, have a good day, norefunds!” He said, all too fast, and fled.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again, forgetting to post until nighttime because i was busy spending the day goofing off, 
> 
> anyways, this is a super long chapter (i think longest so far? probably?) so hopefully that makes up for it :^0

Norman stood, not entirely sure of what had just happened, just outside of the doors of the Mystery Shack. His phone was still in his hand, still calling Neil, but he was preoccupied by the boy who’d pushed him out the door, frantic and embarrassed-looking. Dipper, apparently, was his name? Maybe he’d misheard it. The boy had looked familiar, though, especially combined with that name; and he’d looked like he’d seen a ghost as he talked to Norman. Which, Norman figured, wasn’t that many steps away from the truth.

“Uh, Norman, you there?” Neil asked, voice coming distorted and scratchy from the phone.

Norman brought it back up to his ear. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was saying don’t worry about it! You’ve always wanted to not have to deal with ghosts and their ridiculousness, right? You’ll just be able to kick back and enjoy it, and before you know it, you will be surrounded by a bunch of annoying ghosts yet again!”

Neil sounded very positive about this, but Norman felt doubtful and slightly worried.

“You’re probably right.” He lied. Or, maybe he didn’t lie. He _wanted_ Neil to be right – and not only about the ghosts coming back. He wanted Neil to be right about wanting a respite from ghosts. It seemed like it should be true, like he _should_ want a break from seeing the undead every second of his life; clearly, that was what everyone else thought. But it felt odd, to not see ghosts for the first time in his life. Part of him did feel a little freed. Part of him wanted to feel happier about it than he was. Part of him was just confused, trying to logic out a reason there wouldn’t be any ghosts around. A tinier, quiet part of him was worried that maybe the ghosts were in his head all along. He ignored that thought as well as he could. “Hey, I should go. I’ll call you back later.”

“Cool! Byeee! I miss you and I’ll call back later!” Came Neil’s response, voice muffled by the phone speakers.

Norman pocketed his phone, sighing.

Mostly, he found he felt lonely. He sat down on the steps, waiting for his family to emerge and join him, watching the dusty gravel parking lot and the surrounding woods. The trees were covered in painted eyes and triangles, and signs directing attention and money to the Mystery Shack. He was the only soul outside, and for him, that was a rarity. Insects buzzed in the surrounding brush and somewhere a bird was singing, but everything felt off; usually, there would be ghosts wandering around, to keep him company, to provide a mystery to absently unravel.

Norman sighed. Then he thought about something else Neil had said to him, sounding shocked that a town could have _no_ ghosts: “Like, there’s not even any ones in like the cemeteries or anything?”

Norman resolved, then, to do some investigating of his own for once.

Once his parents had left, with a few more trinkets and oddities they had before, and they drove off, all feeling a little bit better about the summer after a morning of goofing off, Norman watched out the windows. His family chattered, idly, and tuned into the radio, channel playing old pop music from the 80s through the 00s, but Norman had his own determined plan as he searched the passing landscape for any cemeteries or graveyards.

When their car slowly rattled to a stop out in front of the old cabin, they all got out reluctantly. But after a morning of exploring the town and resting, at least Norman felt like he was ready to get to work on the cabin.

At least, for a little while. He still wanted to test his ghost theory.

While his mom immediately went to work cleaning out the house – dragging out rugs and old furniture, opening every window, and kicking out years of dust and cobwebs, Norman poked around the house, taking stock of it, looking for drafts or leaky faucets.

“Is this the only building on the property?” He heard Courtney ask from another room.

“Oh, I’m not sure. I think I heard something about it having a shed or some unrelated buildings.” Sandra pondered.

Norman wandered into the room, “I didn’t see much water damage or anything around.” The cabin floors were wood and linoleum, tough enough materials, and largely untouched by time and weather, “And I could go explore, see what other buildings are around.”

“Sounds good!” Sandra clapped her gloved hands together, puffing dust out.

“I’ll go with you.” Courtney volunteered.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Norman said, pulling on his shoes. He thought he’d glimpsed a garage or something, through the trees, when they’d pulled in to the house earlier, and he decided he’d investigate that first.

“Stay on the property! Just don’t cross that barbed wire fence around it!”

“We won’t!” Norman called from outside.

Courtney waited until they were outside, walking through the dappled sunlight and past many old gnarled brambles and pine trees, to ask “So, hey, what was all that at that Mystery Shack place?”

Norman looked surprised. “Oh, uh, guess they just didn’t like me talking on the phone. S’fine.”

Courtney watched him, “You were all distant on the drive back.”

It was always a little bit unnerving when Courtney actually went into protective big sister mode, dropping her aloof, annoyed persona. He sometimes forgot how observant she could be; he supposed that was the benefit of coming off as airheaded and silly like she often did.

“That was… other stuff. I’ve just been thinking a lot about this town.” Norman debated whether or not to tell her about the (lack of) ghost problem.

But he was still slightly in denial of it himself, and he figured he should wait until he had real proof before he disturbed the peace. His family had been very cool with his whole “seeing ghosts” thing recently, and he didn’t want to mess it up or make it weird.

He was snapped out of his thoughts and debating, when Courtney said, excited. “Hey, we found it!”

“Ooh.” Norman followed her gaze to a large garage on the property. Greyed wooden shingles covered the entirety of it, and there were a few high windows, dusty and cracked, on the sides.

Norman rushed to the door, excited. “What do you think’s in here?”

“Hey, woah, you’re not just gonna go in, are you?” Courtney stared up at the building, old and creaky and imposing.

“Why not?” Norman shrugged, and opened the door, hinges rusted with age, with a yank.

Norman coughed, the movement of the door kicking up dust and cobwebs. A small amount of sunlight filtered through the open door and hazy windows, but not enough to make anything out.

“It’s too dark in here.” He complained.

“Hold on, here-“ Courtney provided her phone, flashlight app on, shining it into the darkness.

It revealed a fairly average-looking shed, with rakes and shovels, and a small work-bench with saws and hammers propped up against one wall. Most of the shelves and the floor were a mess, covered in papers and machinery and junk. Norman took a tentative step in, gazing around at the miscellany.

Courtney stayed back, digging through piles of junk and yard equipment, as Norman trudged ahead, suddenly noticing a door at the end of the shed, presumably leading to some separate room.

He twisted the door handle, feeling like there was something important beyond it. When he pulled it open, sunlight flooded into the shed, and revealed a room that looked something like a study – with a large window in the center, looking out into the forest and the property.

Norman ran his hands over dust-covered papers, taking in the room. A swivel chair sat, coated in dust, in front of a desk. It was tidy, for the most part, only a few pens and pencils surrounding it. There were notes taped around the walls and scattered on the desk and floor in random places, and a few stacks of file folders on the floor. He slipped out a piece of paper from one, and it looked like a readout from some sort of machinery.

Hmm, nerd stuff.

He slid open a desk drawer with some amount of difficulty; age and weather had warped the wood, making it stick and squeak as he pulled it out. Inside were stacks of notes and a few sketches.

Norman picked one such piece of paper up, glancing over it. The cursive was hard to make out, but he did his best to read the yellowing paper.

“Haven’t seen as many ghosts as one would expect, but it appears to have gone away none the less. Not much activity for the past few weeks, which I’m glad for. I will keep an eye out for more ghosts, or newly-formed ghosts. There were wildfires the past few days, and I will check out the burned area. Lots of wildlife ghosts there still, I hope.”

_Ghosts?_

Of course, Norman thought. His mom said that she’d inherited the property from her grandfather, which would’ve made him a Prenderghast.

Which, apparently, would’ve made him a medium as well.

A flutter of excitement ran through him as he thought that this meant there were at least three other people who shared his gift, who could see ghosts! But a voice in his head reminded him that they were all dead now, save for him, and he sobered.

But if his great-grandfather could see ghosts in Gravity Falls, why couldn’t Norman?

Norman’s train of thought was quickly interrupted by Courtney, calling Norman back. He quickly set the paper back down where it belonged, and left to look for her.

“Hey, Norm.” Courtney motioned to something nearby.

Norman moved closer, seeing it was a bike.

“A bike for you.”

“Nice!” Norman said, attempting to extricate it from a heap of trash bins and old chicken wire. “Is it in any working shape, though?”

Courtney helped wheel it outside, looking it over. “Tires need air, but I think it’s okay.”

“Sweet.” Norman said. “If we can get this thing in working order I’ll have an actual way to get into town!”

“I think I saw an air pump back there, hold on.” Courtney disappeared back into the shed.

Norman took a closer look at the bike – dusty but sturdy and good-looking otherwise. His brain switched priorities from ‘figure out why you can’t see ghosts in Gravity Falls, and why your great grandfather apparently could’ to ‘fix bike and have cool bike! Yay!’.

By the time they’d fixed it up, filling up the tires, dusting it off, and making sure the chains were in shape, it was afternoon, and Norman found his stomach grumbling hungrily.

“We should head back.” Norman said.

“Yeah. We can tell mom and dad we found their toolshed. And also that we didn’t get eaten by deer or something.”

“Er, yeah, that too.”

When they opened the door, their mom was waiting for them, holding sandwiches on paper plates for each of them (her mom had demanded they stop for groceries after they left the Mystery Shack).

“How’d the search go?” She asked, sitting down at the table. Norman glanced around, already noticing the improvement of the room. The floors were damp after being washed, giving off an earthy wood smell and glinting in the sunlight. The thick timbers that made up the floor had pretty wood grain patterns tracing across them, now that they weren’t hidden behind layers of dust and dirt. And the grime was starting to come off of the kitchen countertops and the windowpanes, as well. It was a wonder what just an hour of cleaning could do.

“We found a toolshed.” Courtney said, shoving her phone in her mom’s direction. She’d taken pictures of the messy garage and its contents.

“Ooh, looks useful.”

“I found Norman a bike, too.” Courtney motioned to the door, where it was barely visible leaning against the side of the house.

“Good for you two.” Sandra cheered, rummaging around in the kitchen.

Norman ate his sandwich—his mom had only bought a few staples, so it was plain by most people’s standards, but food all the same—and waited for the right time to ask, debating what to say.

When he was finished eating his slid his now-empty plate back, “Mom, can I head into town?”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to get an idea of this place.” Norman shrugged, lying. Then remembered how to make his lie more convincing, and added, “And I thought I could buy a postcard to send to Neil!”

“Well, I’m not driving you.” Perry grouched from the fireplace, dislodging chunks of ash and smoke from the chimney.

“I have that new bike, it’s alright.” Norman said.

“Well, if you want to go, I won’t stop you.” Sandra said. “Just don’t stay out too late. We need you helping out here, and it’s dangerous, biking at night without a helmet.”

“Thanks.” Norman said. “I’ll be careful.”

He hopped down from his seat, and grabbed his newly-acquired bike.

It was time to do some investigation.

As he biked, Norman had another chance to watch the town at its own pace. Trees and bushes rushed past as he made his way down the bumpy dirt road. The properties surrounding their inherited one were vast and empty. Black and red signs warned off trespassers and poachers, and threatened injury by dog or gun. Norman figured you probably had to be very private to want to live in a place as remote-feeling as these woods. He thought about his great grandfather, as well. He must’ve been a very private person, too. And according to the notes, he had been researching ghosts.

But what _about_ ghosts? He should’ve looked at those writings more closely. He wished there was anyone he could even talk to about this. The emptiness in Gravity Falls felt unusual, and a worrying voice in the back of Norman’s mind thought there was something more than coincidence to it.

But Norman was interrupted from his troubled thoughts when he turned onto asphalt, and looked up to realize he was in town already. He looked back at the mountain he’d come from, forested with green pines and cedars. It was like the town proper had decided where its borders were, and had stuck to them, ending abruptly at the start of hills and trees. Norman figured the town was small enough to get away with that, too; no one wanted to develop huge new neighborhoods in Gravity Falls, Oregon, of all places.

As he biked past busy streets and small corner stores, he tried to figure out where he should be going, remembering where they’d driven past an old, forested cemetery. The headstones there were worn, looking hand-hewn and softened by weather and time.

He turned down one street he recognized, hoping that he’d been right in his remembering and sense of direction. Small shops and houses lined the streets, and up ahead he could see gnarled, towering trees and green space. He must’ve been right about which direction the cemetery was in.

He hopped off his bike and walked along the sidewalk as he got closer, peering in over the low metal fence. Rows of headstones sat, shaded by tall, old trees, along the weedy green space.

He set his bike down against a tree, behind some bushes, and hoped it was a good enough hiding spot-he’d have to do without a bike lock, for now.

As he walked through the soft grass, making his way through headstones and statues of angels, he felt suddenly nervous, and unsure.

He had never really done this before. He saw spirits, he didn’t seek them out. Sometimes, he was actively trying to avoid them. Trying to _find_ them seemed so contrary, now, and he didn’t know where to start.

He glanced around, not seeing anything. There were a few people wandering the cemetery, bringing flowers to loved ones, and they gave him confused and dirty looks. He was too young to have family here, and he was too _different_ to be a resident of Gravity Falls.

Norman kept his head down, walking further away to a more sheltered spot. A run-down mausoleum, bricks and stones engraved with names and crosses, sat at the end of a pathway. There were statues of angels and skull-faced reapers and half-clothed women, draped mournfully over blocks of marble. A bench, worn and rusted in places, sat under the shade of a huge spruce.

Norman sat down, glancing around to make sure he was alone.

“So… uh.” This was weird. He cleared his throat. “I’m Norman…”

He fiddled. What did people do when they tried to talk to ghosts?! Did they use audio recorders? Cameras? Ouija boards?

What did they do when they could already talk to ghosts, but they just couldn’t _find_ any?

“And uh normally I can sort of… talk to the dead? And see the dead, I suppose.” Norman coughed. “But lately, there’s been no one around. Or… I haven’t seen any ghosts. So… if you’re out there… maybe show up? Convince me I’m not crazy. I can try and help you, too! Sometimes, talking to someone who is corporeal is nice, right?”

Norman glanced around, but the cemetery was still silent.

He sighed, digging his hands against his temples. Of course it didn’t work.

What was he going to do now? Does Gravity Falls have no ghosts? Has he suddenly lost all of his medium abilities? A sense of worry overtook him. Had he been making it up all along?

He shook his head. He had lightning-patterned scars and a shattered town to prove he could see ghosts. But something _was_ up.

Suddenly, he noticed a flicker out of the corner of his eye. His heart leapt. It was a man, dressed in pioneer garb, floating a few inches above the ground. A real ghost!

“Sir!” Norman almost shouted, excitement coursing through him.

The man jumped, spinning around to fix his frightened gaze on the small boy with messy hair. “No… please!”

Norman was stopped short at the look of horror on the man’s face. “W-what?”

He cowered. “Don’t!”

“I’m not gonna hurt you…” Norman’s voice softened. He offered a placating hand, but kept his distance.

“We can’t rest. Not even in death. Not even in undeath.”

“What do you mean?”

The man looked shaken, but offered no response. He looked to the ground, and to the headstone that must’ve been his, and headed back towards it.

“Hey- wait! Please come back!”

But he had already vanished into the earth.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this time! (the next few chapters are gonna be short as well, switching POVs a lot here...) but hey, at least i posted it earlier! very earlier. 1:55 AM earlier. :') my sleep schedule is dead and i killed it

“I would’ve never agreed to this if I knew it would be so boring…” Dipper complained.

“Oh, shush.” Mabel said. “Art demands sacrifice!”

Dipper looked down to his armful of papers, as Mabel set down yet another on top. “Can’t I at least make a more interesting sacrifice?”

“No.” Mabel said, pressing another sheet of paper against a gravestone and rubbing charcoal over it. “But look on the bright side, this is gonna be a super cool art piece when it’s done! And it’ll probably be like, commentary on life and death and time and age and stuff or something. But what matters is that it’ll look _cool_.”

Dipper sat down in the grass, straightening his stack of papers. He wasn’t _really_ mad about being made to hold her collage materials, but he did find himself wishing they could head back to the shack by now. How many of these did she need? At some point, they’ll run out of headstones.

“Yoo Dipper!” Mabel hissed, sounding more excited than usual.

“Hmm?”

“Is that _hair guy_?” Mabel pointed to someone standing off in the graveyard. “Y’know, from the shack. You kicked him out. You may or may not be close internet friends with him. You’re lying to him about Gravity Falls, all that.”

“Yes, Mabel, I know.” Dipper squinted. “Oh man, that _is_ him.”

Mabel nodded. “He’s recognizable.”

“It’s the hair.” They both said in unison.

“What’s he doing out in the middle of a cemetery though? He seems like a tourist.”

“Checkin’ out the local spooky spots!” Mabel said, working on another gravestone print.

“Well, that would certainly make him Prender.” Dipper worried.

Mabel looked back to the kid, watching him gesture to the air. “Is he, like, talking on a phone?”

“Not unless he has some sort of wireless headset thing.” Dipper mumbled, turning to look in the direction Mabel was staring.

It sort of looked like he _was_ having a conversation with the air.

“Oh my gosh, Dipper!” Mabel’s eyes lit up. “What if he’s, like, ghost-hunting!”

“What?” Dipper scrunched his nose up.

“Y’know, the thing where you go to a cemetery and, like, ask ghosts questions.”

“Pfft. That never works.” Dipper said.

“Dude, this is perfect!” Mabel squealed. “Look, this guy’s gotta be your internet friend if he’s ghost hunting. _Especially_ if he’s ghost hunting badly; you said this guy’s a skeptic.”

“Semi-skeptic.”

“That doesn’t matter, Dipper, can’t you see?” Mabel asked. “ It’s mean to be!”

“What’s meant to be?”

“Your friendship. You must talk to him.” Mabel put a solemn hand on his shoulder.

“Nooo! That’s way too weird! There is no more hope of talking to that guy, ever again, even if he _isn’t_ Prender! My web of lies and failure is too extensive.”

Mabel shook her head. “Dipper, come on! You could at least try.”

Dipper balked.

“Dipper, this is your chance to go up to him and make things right!”

“I can’t just go up to some guy in a graveyard and tell him that I’ve been lying to him on the internet!” Dipper protested. “No way.”

But Mabel was already sneaking off towards the kid. Dipper grabbed her art supplies huffily and followed.

“Hey-“ Mabel said as they got closer, but Dipper shushed her suddenly, finally in earshot of the boy’s one-sided conversation.

“Wait, Mabel- what’s he saying?” He asked, both twins slowing to a stop.

“Oh my gosh, Dipper… he _is_ talking to ghosts! This is _perfect_!” Mabel eavesdropped.

“Mabel, doesn’t this seem weird to you…?” Dipper asked. “I mean, he’s j- hey wait!”

Mabel had already sprinted off towards the kid, waving. “Hey! You!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for another late and short chapter, but im running out of stuff ive already written to post (the past 11 days have hit HARD and i have fallen behind, and fallen prey to perfectionism and procrastination, on all of my creative projects) so i don't have any extra chapters or anything today! still, i'm happy with how this chapter turned out and i'm looking forwards to getting back in the swing of working on this fic!

Norman nearly jumped out of his skin at the noise behind him, turning suddenly to see a girl jogging towards him.

“What?!” Norman jumped back a few steps, looking nervous. Had she heard him talking to the air? Was she here to beat him up? “W-who are you?!”

“Mabel Pines.” She took a bow. Norman recognized the name ‘Pines’, but he couldn’t place why. “And this is my brother Dipper.” She sat aside to motion to a fairly alarmed-looking boy, brown curls stuffed under his blue and white hat. Everything snapped into place.

Norman felt compelled to return the naming gesture. “Uh, I’m Norman...Oh. You’re the kids from the Mystery Shack, right?”

“ _Kids?!_ ” Dipper protested distantly.

“Yup.”

“Well if you’re here because you think I stole something, I didn’t.” Norman turned to leave, having already lost his hope of finding any more ghosts in this graveyard. That last lunatic would’ve scared anyone else off anyways.

“Actually, we’re here because you were talking to ghosts.”

Norman’s heart skipped a beat, and he froze in his tracks. “What?”

“You were looking for ghosts, right?” Mabel asked.

“...What if I was?”

“Well, this is a terrible spot. You should try the old convenience store. Or the graveyard on the outskirts of town – its bigger, and older.” The boy spoke now, walking closer. Norman searched his round face and messy hair, unable to shake the feeling that he recognized him; and from somewhere other than the Mystery Shack.

Norman shook his head, “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” He realized it sounded rude, but he still had the unmistakable feeling that he knew Dipper from somewhere else.

“Uh-“ Dipper faltered.

“Maybeeee” Mabel sounded excited. “Are you, perchance, an internet-user with the penname Prender?”

“H-how did you-?” Norman glanced around the cemetery, and wondered if bolting was the best option at this point. “Who-!?”

Mabel jabbed a hand at Dipper. “This dork’s username is ursamajor.”

Dipper looked indignant and embarrassed. Norman realized finally why the name Dipper had sounded familiar to him.

“The Big Dipper. Part of the constellation Ursa Major.” Norman said, mostly to himself.

Dipper looked sheepish and sweaty, but he nodded.

“B-but wait, you said you’d never heard of Gravity Falls?!”

Dipper blushed, “I panicked! You were just asking out of the blue!”

Norman noted Dipper’s display of embarrassment, a small apology in its own way. “So you _live_ here?”

“Not exactly. Mabel and I spend the summers here.” Dipper said.

“Quite a coinkydink that you’re here too, huh?” Mabel interjected, trying to lighten the awkwardness and tension in the air.

“Huh. It really is a quite the coincidence.” Norman said, looking a little suspicious.

“I’m sorry, man. I should’ve just told you I lived in Gravity Falls, but you caught me off-guard, and then it was all weird and-“

Norman interrupted Dipper’s worrying; It seemed genuine, the other kid’s apology, and he didn’t seem like he really meant any harm. “I’ll accept that apology.”

Dipper laughed, nervously. After a slightly too-long pause, he added. “But seriously. Since you asked... earlier... Gravity Falls _is_ a really weird town. Weirder than anything you’ve seen before.”

“Well, I’m in a cemetery looking for ghosts. I think I’m already weird.” Norman chuckled, made a little uneasy by how sincere Dipper sounded in his warning.

“But I have a list of way better ghost-hunting spots. So... that’s kinda weird, too.” Dipper said, faint smile on his face. “But, really. Ghosts are probably about the most normal thing in this town.”

Norman looked surprised. So far, ghosts were the most normal part of his life. But in this town, they actually were unusual. “Really?”

“You don’t even know.” A grin spread across his face.

Norman realized that, after months of talking online, a real, in-person conversation felt- maybe not easy-but fun and exciting, weird start aside. He felt a flicker of exhilaration in his chest; this kid was actually giving him ghost-hunting tips, rather than laughing at him or anything else people usually did when Norman talked about ghosts! And apparently, he knew some secrets about this town. Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be as boring as he thought. Maybe he could make friends in this town.

Maybe these kids wouldn’t even think he was too weird if they learned he could talk to ghosts. Maybe it would be good. Maybe...

Just then, Norman’s phone chirped. Norman jumped, and fumbled to check it.

“It’s my mom…” He said. “I should probably be heading back.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine! We can talk later, about any weird stuff that happens here?” It sounded more like a question than anything.

“Yeah, yes.” Norman answered.

Dipper suppressed grin as Norman ran off to retrieve his bike, waving goodbye at the two of them, the cheerful girl and the nervous-seeming boy.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is SOO short but i sorta burned through most of my buffer so , here it is.   
> hoping to get back into the swing of things so the next updates will be longer and better and more! woo!

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mabel asked.

“Why couldn’t I have just told him all that the _first_ time he asked about Gravity Falls?!” Dipper groaned. “He hates me now, probably.”

“Dipper, you did _fine!_ And now you two can bond over cool weird spooky stuff and become best friends!” Mabel cheered. “He likes ghosts, too!”

“Heh, okay, yeah.”

“And, of course, I will be joining you two on your action packed ghost-fighting adventures. Wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem super exciting, you may have to wait for the action-packed adventures.”

“Hey, talkin’ trash already?” Mabel teased.

“No, I’m saying he seems calm and reasonable.”

“And cuuute, huh?” Mabel elbowed him.

Dipper blushed. “You really don’t have to flirt with everyone you meet. You do know that, right?”

“Pfft.” Mabel poked his cheek, smearing charcoal on his face. “C’mon, we have more art to do, you nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd!” He protested, running to catch up with Mabel.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guess who completely forgot to post today? its me? haha WHOOPS  
> anyway heres a chapter... :^0

Norman stared at his bright phone screen. He’d gotten home just in time to eat dinner before working more on the house, tearing up old flooring and weather-warped siding, and afterwards as his family relaxed before bed, he had talked to Dipper for a while. Pretty much the usual fare, this time, but with Dipper adding anecdotes about every old legend and spooky story in the town.

He was laying in his sleeping bag, now, unable to doze off. His brain was busy turning over their conversations. It was yelling _he clearly knows a lot about the supernatural!_ And _he’s in the same town as you are!_ And _now is the best time to tell him!_

Norman rolled over, watching the screen in the dark room. He was awake with nerves and excitement at the thought of maybe meeting someone in real life who was really interested in the paranormal.

Drawing upon the courage that only being awake far past his bedtime could bring him, he did his best to cast his doubts aside next to his hopes of a good night’s sleep, and started to type, determined.

[1:01 AM] **Prender** : Have you ever heard of the Witch’s Curse in Blithe Hollow?

Norman was surprised when Dipper actually responded. He figured the other boy should’ve been in bed by now. But he was glad to hear back from him so quickly; it calmed his nerves, and it meant he couldn’t back out on telling him later, when he was more awake and less brave.

[1:01 AM] **ursamajor** : no, why

[1:01 AM] **Prender** : Google it.

Norman wished he could slow his racing, anxious heartbeat, and felt silly for even feeling _so_ worried about telling Dipper about the whole Aggie thing. But he hadn’t really _told_ anyone about his ability before. All the townsfolk back in Blithe Hollow knew about it, sure, or had heard from other sources or rumors. But he’d just never brought it up with anyone before; he hadn’t had to.

[1:07 AM] **ursamajor** : hmm.. that’s odd. a lot of freak tornado reports. something about rioting...?

[1:07 AM] **ursamajor** : this one says a magic storm

[1:07 AM] **Prender** : There’s a lot of conflicting stories about it.

[1:07 AM] **Prender:** But it’s, uh, pretty interesting. Keep looking.

[1:08 AM] **ursamajor** : oh wait, heres something. this website says there was actually some sort of witchcraft happening in the town?

[1:08 AM] **ursamajor:** damnn! zombies and stuff?

[1:08 AM] **ursamajor** : hold on, lemme copypaste

[1:08 AM] **ursamajor** : But the truth is, this wasn’t some thunderstorm or mass hysteria. The most complete version of the story that can be pieced together from eyewitness accounts, news reports and footage of the town during the event, is that Blithe Hollow was cursed by a witch before she was killed, and out of spite, resurrected hundreds of living corpses to punish the townsfolk. Sounds farfetched, but there were numerous accounts of lights in the sky, and even the undead on the night in question, even if the mainstream media tried to cover it up. The town was trashed in a day by rioting people and, potentially, restless souls.  But the story gets harder to track from here, as the chaos was over almost as soon as it broke out, but the reports of what happened varied. Some people say the townsfolk managed to drive off the monsters and break the curse, but other reports say it was one kid, or a group of kids, who stopped the invasion and the curse by killing the evil that had started it, and killing each zombie. Obviously, all of this is stitched together from other testimonials, but looks like it could be (somewhat close to) the real thing. I’ll await any commentary or debate you guys have, and look for more info in the meantime. Sources posted under the cut:

[1:08 AM] **ursamajor** : so, zombies and evil witches and stuff is preeety damn cool, i would say. hard to tell what all is true, but honestly i believe it.

[1:10 AM] **Prender** : Well, I kinda sorta live in Blithe Hollow (well, usually) and that rendition of the story is close, but not quite it.

No turning back now, Norman.

[1:10 AM] **ursamajor** : woah really? were you around when it was happening? what did you see of the whole thing?

[1:10 AM] **Prender** : Well.

[1:10 AM] **Prender** : So, the whole Witch’s Curse story was super widely-known, even before the incident, right? It was a tale about how a witch cursed her killers to rise from the grave and walk the earth as the living dead, etc. etc., and it was a good way to sell merch and get people to visit a tiny town in the woods of Massachusetts. And of course it was just a story because, you know, the living dead hadn’t ever actually rose from the grave like that witch had promised.

[1:11 AM] **Prender** : But that wasn’t really what had happened.

[1:11 AM] **Prender** : And you’re gonna have to stick with me here because this all sounds kind of far-fetched, but I can prove it.

[1:11 AM] **Prender** : The story actually did come true. The ghost of a witch rose from her grave, hundreds of years later, and brought her accusers back as zombies.

[1:11 AM] **Prender** : Everyone panicked because, zombies, right? But they weren’t trying to hurt anyone after all, they were all just terrified and being attacked and mobbed by people.

[1:11 AM] **Prender** : The town kinda descended into chaos. Probably wouldn’t have really stopped being chaotic but... well.

[1:12 AM] **Prender:** The witch wasn’t really evil. She was scared. She was a little girl who had been sentenced and killed for witchcraft and vowed to lash out. But she’d been kept at bay for years and years by people who would go and tell her bedtime stories and keep her from waking up and raising the dead.

[1:12 AM] **Prender** : My uncle. Well, he could talk to ghosts. So every year he would stop her from coming back, right? He could go to her and tell her a story so she forgot everything and slept for the next year. But he died that year, the year that the curse came true.

[1:13 AM] **Prender** : And, uh, yeah. There _was_ a whole lot of weird weather phenomena, like the newscasts and official articles say, but that was because her ghost was so powerful. She created windstorms and crazy-looking clouds.

[1:13 AM] **Prender** : And the townsfolk all reacted badly and just made everything worse.

[1:13 AM] **Prender** : The “kids who killed the evil witch”

[1:13 AM] **Prender** : Well, this is gonna sound weird again. But like I said I have proof.

[1:14 AM] **Prender** : The “kids who killed the evil witch” didn’t do anything like that. They just tried to track her down. Someone had to talk to her and stop it, but only someone who could talk to ghosts could say anything to her.

[1:15 AM] **Prender** : And, uh, I was sort of. That person. I could talk to ghosts. I mean, I still can.

[1:15 AM] **Prender** : So I had to go track down the angry, scared ghost and talk her out of it. She was destroying the town, and everyone in it. I didn’t “kill” her, no one did.

[1:15 AM] **Prender** : I just tried to get her to see that what she was doing was wrong, and let her calm down.

[1:16 AM] **Prender** : So, uh, it’s kinda weird when articles get all that wrong.

[1:16 AM] **Prender:** Heh.

Norman’s stomach twisted with nerves. This sounded crazy, why would Dipper even believe him?

More importantly, what would Dipper say? He _seemed_ interested in the paranormal, but sometimes people get... _weird_.

Norman watched impatiently, waiting for a response.

[1:17 AM] **ursamajor** : holy shit man! really?!! that is so cool!

[1:17 AM] **ursamajor** : so , wait you can see ghosts? and you were the only one in your town that could? that’s weird, i thought people could just see ghosts on a case-by-case basis.

[1:18 AM] **Prender** : What?

[1:18 AM] **Prender** : Uh, no, I don’t think so…? I see ghosts all the time, but I’ve never met anyone aside from my uncle who saw them as well.

[1:18 AM] **ursamajor** : well mabel and i have actually… run into some before. and i don’t mean some sort of, i saw a shadow in an old house or i used a ouija board one time and got scared, i mean actual poltergheist , possessing children, type ghosts...

[1:18 AM] **ursamajor** : you have no idea what kind of weird stuff happens in gravity falls… this place is a hot spot for unnatural happenings. oh man, i have so much to tell you!

Norman stared, almost in disbelief. This guy had seen ghosts too? How was that possible? What had he seen?

Norman felt a flutter of excitement in his chest ; Dipper had believed him. Dipper had been fascinated.

[1:18 AM] **ursamajor** :  this town is so full of crazy stuff , man. i mean gnomes and zombies and yetis and monsters of kinds! i found … a journal, out in the woods, the first time we came to gravity falls. it ‘s full of notes on all sorts of weird stuff here, mabel and i have tracked a few of the things in it down! dude, i have to show you it.

[1:19 AM] **ursamajor** : maybe we could even go looking for some of the stuff together? like i said, i know some much better ghost spots

Norman couldn’t help but grin at his phone. Gravity Falls was turning out to be more interesting than he anticipated, in a few different ways.

[1:20 AM] **Prender** : Yeah! That would be so cool

[1:20 AM] **Prender** : I’m kind of busy with fixing up the house, but whenever I can get away from it I’d totally like to see some of that stuff in your journal.

[1:20 AM] **Prender** : Though, I will probably need to see proof of any fanciful creatures it lists.

[1:20 AM] **ursamajor** : oh man dude, you will not be disappointed. i will show you proof.

[1:20 AM] **Prender** : Do your worst. With all this bragging you’re doing, I won’t accept anything but a first-hand sighting.

[1:20 AM] **ursamajor** : deal.

[1:21 AM] **ursamajor** : ...saturday?

[1:21 AM] **Prender** : I’ll see if I can get out of home renovations.

[1:21 AM] **ursamajor** : sweet!

[1:21 AM] **ursamajor** : sorry, i need to turn my computer off. my sisters complaining about the time,

[1:21 AM] **ursamajor** : talk tomorrow?

[1:21 AM] **Prender** : Yeah. Talk tomorrow.

Norman shut his phone off, sliding it back into his travel bag. He was exhausted from a long day of hard work, but his brain was hyperactive and racing. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that made him restless and excited. Maybe it was finding someone who was also interested in the supernatural. Maybe it was the implication that this town was much, much weirder than it seemed. Maybe it was the hope that he could find more ghosts in Gravity Falls, and that he wasn’t going crazy.

Norman settled into his sleeping bag, willing his mind to quiet off and drift to sleep. But he was buzzing with nervous energy.

He hoped he was free Saturday.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry! this one's a bit late. not my favorite chapter either, honestly, but i wanted to get it up. and it makes way for more adventure next chapter! woo

“Mabel!” The tables had turned. It was now an excited Dipper shaking Mabel awake at some early morning hour.

“Ack! What?!”

“I did it! I talked to Norman!”

“I know that, you goofus, you were up all night talking to him.” Mabel rubbed her eyes sleepily. Then added, indignantly, “Speaking of, why aren’t you exhausted and/or sound asleep?!”

“That’s not the point, the point is he can _see ghosts_.”

“Woah WHAT?” Mabel sat up.

“He told me about this whole Witch’s Curse thing, and then told me about how he was at the center of this whole huge ghost haunting event thingy in, uh--somewhere, I think Massachusetts—but the guy talked about how there was a ghost who cursed the whole town and he ended up being the only one who could stop her because he actually sees ghosts, like, everywhere! I looked into it, and there’s a lot of different sources telling the same general story: zombies, ghosts, the kid who saved the town! Isn’t that so cool?!”

“Dipper, did you stay up all night?” Mabel inturrupted.

Dipper looked sheepish. “Well, not _all_ night. But I just kept thinking about our conversation, and he said that he was the only person he knew of who could see ghosts, right? But _we’ve_ seen ghosts! So I looked around in the journal, and I think that the author’s whole ghost classification system is wrong-if I can talk to this guy and figure out more about the ghosts he sees, I could have some much more concrete evidence on the paranormal, and a huge insight into how spirits work! I have so many questions, but I might actually be able to answer some of them, now!”

Mabel couldn’t help but smile at him. “You are a _major_ dork. But I’m glad you’re talking to Norman!” She said, getting to her feet and stretching.

“Yeah! I should actually go talk to him again, see what he knows about ghost stuff. Oh man, we should see if he can go ghost-hunting with us. Or... if we can go ghost-hunting with him? Doesn’t matter, but I should message him.” Dipper was mostly talking to himself at this point.

He searched for the plug to his computer while Mabel wandered off to brush her teeth, and waited for his computer to start up.

Mabel padded through the house quietly as Dipper sat on his bed, still mostly made and scattered with papers; he _had_ slept some, but then he had a stroke of inspiration, and he couldn’t just lie in bed, he had to write it all out.

[8:01 AM] **ursamajor** : hey

[8:01 AM] **ursamajor** : whats up

Dipper fiddled nervously as he waited for a response, worrying over random, small things.

[8:04 AM] **Prender** : Not much, you?

[8:04 AM] **ursamajor** : not much either

[8:04 AM] **ursamajor** : so , i was thinking. how man ghosts do you usually see around?

[8:04 AM] **Prender** : Man ghosts?

[8:04 AM] **Prender** : I guess I see as many man ghosts as woman ghosts. Why? Looking for any ghost men in particular?

[8:04 AM] **ursamajor** : MANY!! MANY!! AS IN, LIKE, WHAT GHOSTS DO YOU NORMALLY SEE,

[8:04 AM] **Prender** : Hehehe

[8:04 AM] **Prender** : In all seriousness, I dunno. I just...  see ghosts of anything that hasn’t passed on yet. There are some people. Around roads, there’s a lot of animals.

[8:05 AM] **Prender:** I haven’t really thought about it that much.

[8:05 AM] **ursamajor** :  dude, that is so cool!

[8:05 AM] **ursamajor** : i’ve only seen a handful of ghosts around gravity falls. and they’ve all been like, big time bad news ghosts.

[8:05 AM] **ursamajor** : the journal that i mentioned, it has an entry about ghosts, but i think its wrong.

[8:06 AM] **Prender** : Oh?

[8:06 AM] **ursamajor** : well, yeah... it puts ghosts on a level 1-10 scale, right? lvl 1 ghosts being innocuous and rarely spotted spirits, lvl 10 being super malevolent , angry, poltergeist-y spirits....

[8:06 AM] **ursamajor** : but if you can see ghosts all the time, that other people cant see, who are just hanging around not doing much? then that would mean this ghost rating system is off! there should be a level 0, for ghosts that are just around but aren’t being harmful or seen by most people, right?

[8:07 AM] **ursamajor** : i mean... i don’t know specifics of how your ghost seeing works, but its just a hypothesis, right?

[8:08 AM] **Prender** : Wow.

[8:08 AM] **Prender:** You really put a lot of thought into these kinda things, huh?

[8:08 AM] **ursamajor** : well, uh, yeah. its sort of a hobby, i guess...

[8:08 AM] **Prender** : No, it’s cool! I just didn’t know there was so much... sciencey stuff to think about with ghosts. I never really think about it in this way.

[8:08 AM] **ursamajor** : well.. yeah. i think theres always explanations and patterns to be found, though, you know? and then you can get, like, a real understanding of how stuff works! even stuff that people usually think are just myths, heh.......

[8:10 AM] **Prender:** So, do you live in Gravity Falls?

[8:10 AM] **ursamajor** : oh, no. my sister and i just visit every summer. my great uncle runs the mystery shack , and we stay with him..

[8:10 AM] **Prender** : Oh, cool!

[8:10 AM] **ursamajor:** so how long have you been in gravity falls?

[8:11 AM] **Prender** : Uh, just a couple days. We got here Thursday.

[8:11 AM] **ursamajor** : oh

[8:11 AM] **ursamajor** : so have you seen any interesting ghosts here? this seems like the kinda place you wouldn’t just see normal ghosts, its probably pretty weird, right?

[8:12 AM] **Prender** : Actually...

[8:12 AM] **Prender:** I’ve barely seen any ghosts since I got here...

[8:12 AM] **Prender** : There was one ghost, at the cemetery. But he ran off before I could talk to him.

[8:13 AM] **Prender** : It was odd. I’ve never seen a town with so few ghosts. There weren’t even animals around.

[8:13 AM] **ursamajor** : woah.. really?

[8:13 AM] **ursamajor:** hmm.. i dont know,... ive only ever seen ghosts here. but i suppose i have more limited experience...

[8:14 AM] **Prender** : Well, I’m not sure if it’s just that I haven’t seen ghosts, or...

[8:14 AM] **Prender** : The one ghost I talked to seemed terrified.

[8:14 AM] **Prender:** Usually, ghosts just do the same thing they did in life, and don’t pay much attention to living people.

[8:14 AM] **Prender** : But this ghost... he was scared.

[8:15 AM] **ursamajor:** oh...

[8:15 AM] **ursamajor:** thats.. . hmm ... .. why do you think he was scared?

[8:15 AM] **Prender:** I don’t know. I’d need to talk to some more ghosts and try and figure out what’s going on.

[8:15 AM] **ursamajor:** well... i know where you could find some ghosts

[8:15 AM] **ursamajor** : there are a few potentially haunted places around here mabel and i have been meaning to check out. you can come with, if you want. and i can show you more in the journal! real proof of cryptids, and stuff.

[8:16 AM] **usamajor** : so, like i said. tomorrow, if youre free, you should go with us! there might be something serious happening with this town, and the ghosts. and checking out some of the haunted places around might shed some light on the mystery!

[8:16 AM] **Prender:** You think there’s really something weird happening here? Like, something dire?

[8:16 AM] **ursamajor:** no ghosts, when you usually see them everywhere? the one ghost you could find, scared out of his mind? sounds pretty ominous to me.

[8:16 AM] **ursamajor:** and its gravity falls. nothing here is a coincidence.

[8:17 AM] **Prender** : I’ll take your word for it.

[8:17 AM] **Prender** : You’ve been in this town more than me, anyways, it seems.

[8:18 AM] **ursamajor** : man, you havent seen anything yet...

[8:18 AM] **ursamajor** : youre gonna love gravity falls!

“Yo.” Mabel walked back into the room, sorting through her luggage for today’s outfit.

“Hey.” Dipper said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “I talked to Norman more!”

Mabel rose her eyebrows, smiling “I told you it would all be fine if you apologized!”

“Yeah, you were right.” Dipper admitted, obligingly. He grinned, “And he can see ghosts!”

“So you’ve said.” Mabel remarked.

“He said he hasn’t seen many ghosts since he came to Gravity Falls, though.” Dipper wondered aloud.

“That’s weird. We’ve seen tons of ghosts in Gravity Falls.” Mabel remarked, pulling a glittery sweater on over her tank top.

“That’s what I said.” Dipper mused. “But that place we wanted to check out tomorrow, that the journal says might be haunted? I invited him to come with us when we look around there. There could be something really weird happening in Gravity Falls, you know?”

“Cool cool.” Mabel said. “Look at you, makin’ friends, who can see ghosts, goin’ ghost hunting!”

“Yeah, and itsn’t that _awesome?!”_ Dipper grinned, sitting up on his bed. “I mean, can you imagine being able to contact any ghosts, anywhere, ever?! He says he just sees them everywhere, like a _lot_ of them, and I think I’m right about this new theory about how ghosts works! I’ll have to talk to him- I hope he wants to go with us tomorrow—what if he thinks this was all still weird?!”

Mabel stilled his worrying with a hand on his shoulder. “Dipper, c’mon. He’ll want to hang out with you. And talk weird ghost stuff with you.”

“But-“

“Hey,” Mabel warned, looking serious for a rare moment. “Relax, a little, okay? He’s a person just like you.” Mabel patted him. “Don’t get too worried. And don’t get too carried away, either. He’s human, and I bet he’s way more than just someone who can see ghosts.”

Dipper quieted. “Yeah, of course.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Mabel quickly reverted back to her usual, carefree self. “Also, I have a whole list of pig-related puns, and we have to dress Waddles up in a bunch of costumes today! Please, Dipper, help me make Piggy Azalea and Harry Boartter a reality!”

Dipper was glad Mabel, in addition to being able to give advice, could lighten the mood so easily.

“Sounds like a plan.” He laughed, and followed her as she ran off to find her pet.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god im sorry for another late chapter! i was really busy today and i had quite a long chapter to edit. but im back in the swing of writing now and im excited to get to the next few chapters here!

Norman fiddled with his phone as he waited, re-reading his last texts between Dipper (they’d exchanged numbers the other day, while they were working out where and when to meet up).

[1:15 PM] **Dipper** : yeah so just up the hill, there’s the foundation of an old house. mabel and i will be there. the journal said something about it being haunted, so hopefully we’ll be in luck.

[1:28 PM] **Norman Babcock** : Okay. I’ll head out around 3.

Norman had made it to where Dipper had told him to meet, bike leaning up against a sun-flecked pine. The Pines must not have been here yet, and as he stood beside the old gravel road he searched the treeline behind him for any sign of people—or ghosts. This was supposedly the place Dipper wanted to check out, but Norman could barely tell it used to be anything other than overgrown wilderness.

His phone chimed, and Norman wondered for a moment if he’d gotten the place wrong. But it wasn’t Dipper.

[3:18 PM] **Neil** : ay sorry didtn see ur msgs until just now <:U but dude NIIICEE!! i TOLD you u would find someone to have cool adventures with and stuff! and i told you this wouldn’t be a boring vacation! :D go hang out with that boii

Norman smiled down at his phone. He’d told Neil everything yesterday, and his friend was possibly more excited than he was about the coincidence. They’d chatted, too, about things going on in Gravity Falls and back in Blithe Hollow, about the work on the house and about Dipper and Mabel and Selma and Mitch, and Norman found he missed his hometown and his friends. But there was definitely something new and exciting about Gravity Falls, and his friendship with the Pines twins. It felt like the infinite potential in these first few weeks of summer, like anything could happen now, like his whole world could change by the time he was heading back to Blithe Hollow. It was quietly exciting, and it was (at least partly) what made his stomach flutter with unusual nervousness as he waited up on the hill for Mabel and Dipper to arrive.

He listened to the surrounding woods as he stood, waiting in the dappled sunlight. Cicadas and grasshoppers buzzed in the high afternoon sun, and the song of dozens of different birds drifted through the evergreens. A squirrel chattered, high above him, annoyed that he would dare encroach its territory, and flies and mosquitos hummed around him, threatening to bite.

Norman became faintly aware of a low drone coming from somewhere, quickly becoming louder. The sound was hard to place at first, until he realized it sounded like a motor. A fleeting thought wondering who might be mowing the grass this far in the boonies dissipated as soon as he saw a golf cart cresting the hill towards him. Two familiar faces grinned out at him, as the cart slowly came to a hault.

“Hey, you made it!” Dipper cheered, hopping out of the cart and onto the dusty gravel road. Mabel parked the car and came running out herself, a mess of colorful fabric and fluffy hair, as always.

“Wouldn’t wanna miss out on finding some ghosts.” Norman laughed nervously. “So where are we going?” He stumbled through those first few cautious words, making his way carefully around their conversation, still not quite sure how to talk to Dipper in person.

Dipper pulled out a heavy-looking leather bound journal, squinting at it. Norman watched as he flipped through the worn, heavily-annotated pages. “If I’m reading this map right, it should be further up this hill, in that little grassy clearing ahead.” He said, talking more to the book than to the people, and started walking.

Mabel ran ahead, cheering “Onwards!” and waving a stick in front of her, as if charging straight into battle with a sword.

Norman followed the two quietly, stepping over the ditch beside the road as the overgrown grasses rasped against his legs, cutting itchy little scratches against his uncovered ankles. He tried to figure the two kids ahead of him out as he walked, turning over possibilities in his head. He had talked to Dipper plenty online, and he felt like he mostly knew him, and how he reacted or talked or what he liked or disliked. But it was hard to connect an anonymous username to a real live person, so he still felt a little shy around the boy.

Mabel, he thought, probably never felt shy. She was probably the kind of person who could walk into a room and befriend everyone there in ten seconds flat. Probably the kind of person who could fall on her face and laugh it off afterwards. He thought of Neil, and figured the two were similar, maybe just with a little bit of Courtney thrown in.

Years of fallen branches and leaves snapped under his feet as he walked, up the hill. Gravity Falls was humid and warm in summer, and he felt the effects of their walk in his legs. The way up to wherever they were going wasn’t especially steep, but it was long and the road was covered in rocks and tangling undergrowth.

He almost walked into Dipper when he stopped suddenly. “Here we are!”

“Oh.” Norman said, looking over the rocky remains of what was once some sort of building. The skeleton outline of a home, built in brick and stone, lay before them, crumbling and overgrown. A few large log timbers lie scattered around, mold-eaten and sprouting various spongy, utilitarian fungi, and bits of metal, glass and plastic—trash from all different eras mixed together—were scattered around the clearing. Mabel was off walking across all of it, poking at the only thing left in a state that could be considered some semblance of standing: an old blackened brick chimney, weather-worn and reaching pointlessly up to the sky.

“Mabel, careful. The journal says this place might still have ghosts around.” Dipper warned.

Norman glanced around the woods, searching. But it didn’t look like Dipper’s caution was warranted. “I don’t see anything.”

Dipper turned, eyebrows raised. “No? Really?” He questioned, more surprised than disappointed.

“I haven’t seen or heard anything the whole time we’ve been up here. I’m sorry to disappoint but... I don’t feel like there’s any ghosts arouuuuuuuu- OH MY GOD?”

“What?!” Dipper spun around, searching for whatever Norman was looking at.

“Can- can you guys see that?” Norman was pointing to the treeline, where a small dull brown form was moving amongst the bushes.

“Is that-“ Dipper squinted to see.

“Aaaw! A little jackalope!” Mabel beamed.

“Hey, cool. I thought they were really shy.” Dipper smiled, craning his neck to watch it nibble on the grass. Mabel pulled out her camera to snap pictures of it.

“Wait, thats a real jackalope? And you guys aren’t really weirded out by that?” Norman’s brain had to restart, backtracking.

“Well, yeah, it’s harmless.” Dipper was scribbling in his journal again.

Norman shook his head. “But- jackalopes are supposed to be the definition of hoax.”

“Welcome to Gravity Falls.” Mabel shrugged. “Stuff like this gets a lot less weird when you’ve been in this town as long as us.”

“And, hey, you can see ghosts all the time. Shouldn’t this be totally normal to you?” Dipper raised an eyebrow.

“I kinda thought ghosts were the only weird, out-there thing that wasn’t a conspiracy or a lie.” Norman sat down on a log, picking a blade of grass to fiddle with. “Huh.” He watched the jackalope graze, antlers shining in the light.

“Over your little moment of denial, there?” Mabel asked.

Norman shrugged. “Well, I guess it almost makes sense.”

“Hmm?” Dipper looked up from his phone, snapping a quick picture of the beast.

“Every fable’s rooted in truth, right? At some point a real jackalope head has to turn up in the midst of all the fakes.”

“Well, actually it says here that jackalope hides are almost impossible to tan. And jackalope themselves are too flighty and mean to catch...”

“ _Mean?_ ” Norman asked, eyeing the jackalope with caution.

“Well, when cornered. Threatened animals, and all that.” Dipper made a dismissive hand gesture. “Point is, most jackalope taxidermy _is_ just an imitation of the real thing.”

“And where are you getting that?” Norman asked, craning to look at the journal Dipper was reading.

“The journal! Man, I mentioned it to you, right?” Dipper got an excited look in his eye.

“You said something about it.” Norman stood to look over Dipper’s shoulder.

Dipper flipped through the pages, relocating the one on jackalope. “Yeah. I found it hidden in the woods the first time we came to Gravity Falls. And it has hundreds of pages like this, on hundreds of supernatural creatures and paranormal phenomena that happen in Gravity Falls!”

“Is it true?” Norman asked, looking at the detailed pages, adorned with detailed diagrams and notes scribbled on top of others in various messy handwritings and colors of ink.

“So far, everything in this journal has been real. Mabel and I have been looking through it, investigating every thing and place it lists!”

“Well, hey, mostly it’s you who’s into it for all that nerdy stuff.” Mabel protested. “I do the monster hunting to cultivate that cool, bad girl vibe.”

“Well, yeah-“

“And because you would probably die without me to help save you.”

“I mean... yeah, yeah.”

Norman chuckled a little at their sibling banter as he read through the page on jackalopes. It was thorough and scientific, which was kind of funny for a book describing a _jackalope_ of all things to be.

He realized, with a feeling of weirdness, that it looked familiar to him. The yellowed pages, the information-heavy text.

“Where’d you say you found this?”

“In the forest. By the Mystery Shack, on our grunkle’s property.”

“Who wrote it?”

“Oh, brother, don’t get him started.” Mabel advised distantly, but Dipper was already talking.

“That’s the cool thing about it! No one knows! He wrote this journal and then, apparently, every trace of him disappeared. He left it hidden and never came back for it, and Mabel and I have never found another one or even heard of someone who researches the town! It’s like he disappeared, suddenly. Or he left Gravity Falls in a hurry. It’s weird, I wish I knew more-“

“On the property we inherited, my sister and I found an old garage. I’m not certain, but I found a study with a bunch of notebooks and papers in it, and the one I read mentioned something about ghosts. Maybe it could be related to your journal? At the very least, it could be more information on the ghosts around here-“

“Oh my gosh, really?!” Dipper turned to grin, spark of excitement in his eyes, up at Norman. “Where? How much is there? When’d you find all this?”

Norman laughed, surprised by his enthusiasm. “My house. Should we head over there?”

“Yeah!” Mabel cheered.

“Yes!- I mean, if you don’t mind, that is.”

Norman cast one last look around the sunny clearing. “If you’re ready to leave this place, sure. I think my parents will be alright with us poking around.”

Dipper grinned.

Mabel was already making her way down the hill, catching brambles and grass seed in her skirt as she made for the golf cart.

“ _Investigation time_.” She said, when Norman and Dipper were down the hill, sitting behind the wheel of the golf cart.

“Hop on in!” Dipper offered as he sat down. Norman was navigating the tangled undergrowth that stood in the last few feet between him and the road.

“I kinda biked here.” Norman motioned to his bike, lying partially obscured in the grass.

“Toss it in the back!” Mabel said.

“I- really? You don’t mind?”

Mabel shook her head. “Pfft, it’s nothin’.”

Norman hefted it in the back of the cart, hoping it was secure enough. “Thank you guys.”

“No problem.” Dipper said, scooching over to make room as Norman sat down.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry i haven't posted anything here in ages! i've been at my grandma's house and travelling since the 8th, and pretty busy with real life stuff, so there just wasn't enough time to write, edit and post a chapter.... but this one's a pretty long one, and i'm excited to get to work on the next few chapters from here, so hopefully i can get posting a little more often. thank you guys for being patient, and i hope i didn't scare anyone that i was gonna give up on this, hahaa

Dipper sat next to Norman as they rode off down the road, buzzing quietly with excitement. If Norman knew even the littlest hint of what happened to the author, and who he was – it could change everything; new evidence, new hypotheses, and maybe, finally, a chance to discover who wrote the journal!

Dipper glanced to Norman, watching his face as they drove through the woods. He pointed when they reached a fork, telling Mabel which way to go. She drove happily on, humming some tune as they went.

Dipper was too busy rolling theories and half-formed, excited, worried thoughts around in his head to pay much attention to the scenery, or what Norman and Mabel were idly chatting about. Could Norman really have found something related to the author? Were there more people than Dipper thought that knew of the weirdness in Gravity Falls?

He snuck another glance at Norman, wanting to talk to him. He watched the boy stare off into the treeline, noted his big blue eyes and his ears and his surprisingly spiky dark hair. He wondered if he was seeing any ghosts, off in the forest. But he shook his head, of course not, and berated himself. Norman would probably be excited if he’d seen any more ghosts.

Dipper still couldn’t quite get over the whole _freaking sees ghosts_ thing, because _holy crap! Norman can see ghosts!_ It was amazing. He wanted to know more about it, more about the other people who he said could see ghosts, too. He wanted to know everything about everything, and what Norman saw and how he saw them and what ghosts he talked to and what ghosts do. It was all such an unexplored area, and of course-! Of course all the data and theories on ghosts would be wrong, if it was people who weren’t mediums studying them. Norman could change how the world thought about ghosts. He could prove to any skeptic that they were real. The implications of it were _huge_ , and Dipper couldn’t stop thinking about every question he wanted to ask the boy.

He looked back, again. His brain was fighting the never-ending anxiety war, shouting _make small talk! Befriend him!_ and _don’tbeweirddon’tbeweirddon’tbeweirddon’tmakehimhateyou_ and instead of doing anything Dipper just stared at Norman, trying to summon the courage to ask him more about the ghosts he usually sees.

Norman glanced over to Dipper, their eyes meeting. Dipper looked away quickly, wishing Norman hadn’t seen him staring. He watched the landscape flying by next to them with fascination, praying that the heat in his face was just the sun and not a visible blush.

He was saved from spending much more time feeling embarrassed, though, when Norman shouted “Here!” And Mabel skidded to a halt abruptly in front of a rusting old gate.

Norman hopped down from the cart, “I’ll get it, hold on.”

Mabel drove the cart through as he unlatched the gate.

“I’ll just head up and make sure it’s okay with my parents.” Norman said, motioning for them to follow.

Dipper took a moment to take in the landscape. Norman’s house was nice, a small log cabin type building surrounded by forest. It was clear the wilderness here was overgrown and a little wilder than it should’ve been, and if he squinted he could see a small gray shed somewhere behind Norman’s house, hidden by an overgrown copse of spindly saplings. Dipper guessed that was the garage Norman was talking about.

Dipper and Mabel stood a polite distance away from the house as Norman stepped up onto the aging wooden porch, weather-worn floorboards creaking under his feet. He swung the door open, leaning in to talk. “Hey, Mom! Do you mind if I hang out here with Dipper and Mabel-the kids from the Mystery Shack-for a while?”

An older woman appeared, dirt-smeared apron tied around her waist, by the door. She wiped her hands—covered by yellow rubber gloves—on a rag as she glanced back at Dipper and Mabel. “Oh, well the house is kind of a mess right now.”

Mabel waved. “Don’t worry about that, Mrs. Norman’s Mom! We were just going to explore outside, if you didn’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, are you sure it’s safe out there?” She asked, mostly to Norman, “We haven’t been over the whole property yet.”

“We’ll be careful.” Norman promised. “We were just gonna stick around the house, maybe poke around in the garage some more.”

A man, looking rather annoyed and holding a box of lightbulbs, appeared beside her. “Don’t keep him too long. He’s not getting out of working on the house that easily.”

Mabel waved again to him. “We’ll be on our way pretty soon! We’ve got the Shack to get back to anyway.”

The man who must’ve been Norman’s Dad looked pacified by this. He huffed, but made no effort to introduce himself. “Alright.”

“Thanks, Mom, Dad!” Norman waved, turning to motion for Mabel and Dipper to follow him.

They headed out towards the garage, picking their way through brambles and trees, as Norman talked.

“So, Courtney—my sister—and me found this place a few days ago while we were taking care of the property. I really haven’t had time to look at the papers in it more, but the first few pages I’d read said something about ghosts...” Norman lead them to the door of the shed, and yanked it open on rusty hinges.

Dipper blinked as they stepped inside of the dark garage.

“Ooh, spooky!” Mabel said, entranced. “You gonna murder us with one’a these hacksaws?” She asked, running over to a wall of rusty, dusty old tools.

“I wasn’t gonna murder you at all, actually.” Norman said, mouth curling into a dry smile.

“Hey, I’m just saying. If you wanna find ghosts, maybe you should _make_ some ghosts.”

“You guys would probably get revenge on me.” Norman showed her through the door to the study. “Haunt me for the rest of my life or something. Can’t risk that.”

“Excuse me!” Mabel said, mock-offended. “Who _wouldn’t_ want to be haunted for their whole life by me?”

The three of them walked into the sunlit room. Dipper looked around, noting it must have been an addition or a renovation-the main body of the garage had been dark and dusty and cluttered, but the little workstation in here was nice, almost homey.

Norman laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, sorry! Just don’t get all poltergeist scary on me.”

Dipper stepped inside, noting the dusty shag rug sat on the floor. The walls had some sort of aged, peeling wallpaper on them. There was even a window, and though the glass was frosty with dust and dirt, it brought a nice light and warmth into the room. Dipper’s focus was immediately drawn to the desk, a simple dark wood thing, and the mess of papers, notebooks and journals lying on it.

Norman went to them, picking a few books up and dusting them off. He read off the dates on top of them aloud. “January 1999, December 1994, March 2000... hmm.”

“Could it be?” Mabel asked, snatching one away and opening it. She flipped it open, aging pages fluttering and kicking up motes of dust in the sun. She read aloud, “...And I don’t know how much longer I will stay here. Gravity Falls is not a safe place, and I fear even thought I have tried to stop it it will come back. I’ve been looking at places to stay. I can sell the car and fly out to Florida. May I die there and never have to come back to this town.”

Dipper blinked. “Woah. What is he talking about?”

“What’s the next page say?” Norman asked, craning to read what Mabel was holding.

“Milk, apples, canned peaches, coffee - instant, toothbrush.” Mabel read. “Apocalyptic code?”

Dipper grabbed another book, starting to read. “Grocery list, I think-” He paused to skim through the pages, glancing at them and flipping through them. “I think this guy just wrote about, like, everything happening in his life...”

“That would explain why there were so many journals and papers.” Mabel said. “Though his life doesn’t sound that interesting. He’s written nothing about, like, going clubbing or _anything_.”

Dipper chuckled at that, as he looked for any relevant information in the notebook he was holding. “So, who wrote these?” Dipper asked, turning to Norman.

Norman sat against the wall in the study, sliding open a file folder to poke through. “My great grandfather. Donald Prenderghast, I think?” He paused, pulling out a stack of papers. “Is any of this helping you? Do you think he could be your author?”

Dipper felt an excitement at that possibility, and grabbed his journal to compare. “I mean, it could be-“

“When was the last anyone heard of the author, though?” Mabel asked. “It’s been, like, 30 years, right?”

Dipper frowned, opening the old journal with a heft. “Well, yeah.”

“So, this guy’s most recent journal we found was 2000.” She shrugged, “Sorry, but...”

Dipper had the journal, and one of great grandpa Prenderghast’s notebooks splayed out on the floor next to eachother, comparing them. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re right. The writing’s a different style and everything...”

Norman watched as Dipper simultaneously leafed through the two books.

Dipper hummed, feeling slightly let down. He knew the odds were low that Norman would’ve found the key to finding the author, but for a few moments he’d _hoped_. “Yeah. I’m no expert, but I don’t think these were written by the same person.”

“Dang.” Mabel said.

“But this does mean there’s something going on in Gravity Falls! And that the author isn’t the only person who’s noticed how strange this town is. Is there anything more about what this guy was writing about? Maybe in a different notebook?” Dipper wondered. “Norman, didn’t you say there was a note about ghosts?”

“Yeah.” Norman said, handing him the slip of paper. “It doesn’t say much.”

Mabel leaned over Dipper’s shoulder to see it as he read it.

“So this guy wasn’t seeing too many ghosts either.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of temporal vortex-y thing.” Dipper said. “Or... uh... ghosts are really shy around here? I don’t know enough about ghosts...”

Mabel dug through the piles of notebooks and papers. “There has to be something interesting in here _somewhere_.” She said, flipping through a few of them.

Dipper felt a plan forming, filling him with a new determination. “We need to just sit down and go through all of these journals!” Maybe these books hadn’t gotten him closer to finding the identity of the author, but they could still help unravel the ghost mystery in town.

Mabel tossed a few notebooks and stacks of paper into his lap. “Nerd.”

Dipper picked them up, “I mean, like, we should be organized about it. We can’t leave any stone unturned if we want to figure out what this guy was talking about.” He turned to Norman. “There’s something going on with this town! Something ghost-related and serious! These books were a dead-end as far as finding the author, but they seem like they might still have some more information about Gravity Falls.”

“You really think so?” Norman asked.

“Of course! We can get to the bottom of this.” Dipper said, getting more excited now about the thought of a new mystery to solve.

Norman smiled, “I’ve never really had to figure out a ghost mystery of this size before.”

“Yeah, well-“ Dipper started, “Wait, you’ve figured out a ghost mystery before?”

Norman shrugged, “Well, yeah. We kind of had to figure out why Aggie was attacking the town, and then where she was buried, and all that.”

“That is _so cool_.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Norman said.

“Yeah right. It’s awesome!” Dipper said. “You should come with me and Mabel on some of our monster-chasing adventures. Uh, maybe on a more exciting one than that abandoned old house.”

“That would be cool.” Norman nodded. “I get the feeling that there’s a lot of weird Gravity Falls stuff I haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh man, yeah! I so have to show you some of the stuff we’ve found-“

“Hey.” Mabel inturupted, phone in hand. “It’s Soos.”

“Oh, is our break over?” Dipper asked, feeling his hopes for a day of supernatural investigating slowly being squashed by reality.

“Yeah. And Grunkle Stan has a busfull of tourists arriving soon. He told Soos to tell us to get back or else.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Well, he did warn us that it was now possible for us to be fired.”

“I still don’t think he’s strong enough to fire me.” Mabel sounded adamant. “But he would probably fire you.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying. We should get going. For your sake.” Mabel made to leave the room.

Dipper returned the notebooks he’d been holding to their pile, looking regretful. “Norman, I’m sorry, we really should go.”

“It’s fine.” Norman looked like he was trying to be reassuring as he half-smiled. “I can read through these later and text you about them.”

“Well, uh.” Dipper hoped he wasn’t overstepping their current tentative-friendship boundaries, “We could come over again, when the Shack’s less busy, and go through them all together. I’m pretty good at organizing and speed-reading, we could probably get through them faster as a group.”

Mabel nodded solemnly, “He really is a major nerd. You need him.”

Norman looked hopeful, “Yeah, that would be nice. I need to get this place all cleaned out anyway, I can set aside all the papers and books I find for later.”

“Yeah! Cool.” Dipper grinned.

Mabel’s phone dinged again, and she elbowed Dipper as she checked it.

“Uh, yeah, we need to go. I’ll text you about times?”

“Sure.” Norman said as they retreated.

Dipper walked a little lighter as he followed Mabel, excited at the thought of getting to hang out with Norman again, and at the thought of a new mystery to solve. Mabel smirked at him as he sat down next to her.

“What?” Dipper said.

She shook her head, still smirking as the cart rumbled to life and she started to drive it down the road. “Only you would be excited about promising someone to go through a bunch of dusty old books for them.”

“Well, anyone would be excited if they were going through a bunch of books about _real ghosts_!”

“Suuure.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really sorry for falling behind on this fic! i don't want to abandon it, i've just been busy. but, while i attempt to get back into the swing of things, here's a written-and-edited-at-2:00-AM update, that is hopefully pretty alright. (i think it's pretty alright. but that's my 2:00 AM brain talking.)
> 
> also, woohoo! officially over 30k words now. this may be the longest thing i have ever written. and i feel like i've barely scratched the surface of what i want to write and the little plot ideas and things i want to mess around with. maybe my writing is just a *little* scattered and wordy, hehe. but i'm enjoying it!

“So, those Pines kids seemed nice...” Perry remarked the next day over breakfast. It was a testing, questioning, dad-like sentence, and he looked to Norman for a response.

“Yeah.” Norman said. “I’ve been texting them a little bit. They’re cool.” Norman left out the fact that he’d been texting Dipper since _before_ they got to Gravity Falls. He knew if he mentioned that coincidence his dad would get freaked out about internet predators and catfishing and sexting and other teen internet things he really didn’t understand.

Sandra beamed. “Our little Norm, coming out of his shell, making friends! I’m so proud!”

“Mooom!” Norman complained, laughing.

“So you said they were working at the Mystery Shack?” Courtney asked, making conversation.

“Yeah. The guy who runs it’s their great-uncle.” Norman said, nibbling at his breakfast of bland instant oatmeal.

“And they’re twins?” Sandra asked.

“Mhm.” Norman nodded.

“How nice!” She smiled. “I think it’s good you’re making friends already.”

“We still have plenty of work to do around the house, though, so don’t go gallivanting off every day.” Perry warned.

“I won’t.” Norman chuckled, a little nervously.

“Oh, Perry! This is a vacation, too. Let the boy have his fun and hang out with his friends. Life’s short, and you’re only a teenager once, right?” Sandra ruffled his hair. “That girl seemed nice, huh?” She elbowed him, eyebrows raised knowingly.

“ _Mooom_.”

“Hey, I’m just saying!” Sandra shrugged as Norman walked off to deposit his dirty dishes in the sink.

“I’m going to go clean up the garage.” Norman announced, pulling his shoes on and heading out the door.

“Be careful! Lots of spiders and things out there!” Sandra shouted to his retreating form. “Oh, and be back before lunch! Your father thinks we can pick out rooms for ourselves now that he’s gutted and cleaned the bedrooms.”

“Will do.” Norman waved back at his family as he left, turning away and letting himself relax as he headed back towards the garage, family FAQ time over for now.

Norman did his best not to pay mind to his family’s prying. He guessed it _was_ kind of unusual for him to be making new friends, they were just excited for him. And it would have been weird to _not_ talk about things with them. For all the petty little things that annoyed Norman, they were his family, and it was good to have people to talk to, and to have people who cared enough to pry. But there were still things he hadn’t told them, he _couldn’t_ tell them, that left a weight on him and his conversations...

He mulled over their talk further as he walked, idly turning it over in his mind. His mom was right, Mabel was nice. But in a friend way, he thought. Teenage romance was all awkwardness and hormones and drama, from what he’d seen, and he figured he ought to just steer clear of it all together.

But he found his mind wandering back to the Pines twins, still trying to figure them out.

Dipper had intrigued him from the start-they’d chatted online, they both had interest in the paranormal, and it was clear there was _something_ more going on in this town than either of them had first thought. And Dipper seemed as interested in unraveling that mystery as Norman did. He had this enthusiasm about him, and when he started in on a subject he could just keep talking, and his excitement was hard to resist. He’d talked about the journal and Gravity Falls and the weird, supernatural monsters he’d encountered with such an earnestness. He was kind of cute, in a dorky way.

Norman shook his head, but his mom’s comment had put romance in the front of his mind, and it made him consider, now, who he _could_ have feelings for.

Norman had pretty much completely accepted that he was somehow not-straight. Girls were cute... but boys were _really_ cute.

But romance was dramatic and exhausting and his parents would never get over it, no matter _who_ he dated (and he wasn’t sure just how bad it would be if he _did_ date another boy, he was still trying to gauge his family’s feelings on the matter of homosexuality), and it all sounded intimidating. He could sort that out in college, maybe, when he was farther from his family and where everyone was less small-town-judgmental. That was the whole college stereotype, right?

It didn’t matter either way. Right now, he had things to do, better things to do than talk himself into getting a crush on a boy who he’d only just met. He opened the squeaky garage door open with a tug, more violent than it needed to be, forcing his brain to focus on something else.

Norman weaved his way through the mess of the main garage to the small back office. He had to clean the whole garage out anyways, and he figured now was as good a time as any to organize all the papers and journals in there. He could ask Dipper to come over later and look through them with him (in a totally not weird way, it would be in a normal friend way) and piece together a better picture of what was happening in the town.

He searched for a good box to put things in as he stacked up papers and journals and notebooks. He wondered, too, if there was anything hidden in the room. Maybe his great-granddad had been the type to stash away secret, important information, or magical amulets, or something.

Okay, maybe he’d been texting Dipper a little too much. It was hard not to get on board with the boy’s complicated and excited theories and conspiracies.

Norman swept up the first stack of papers into a battered cardboard box. They landed with a thump, kicking up dust. He’d be glad to have this whole place cleared out and cleaned out, he thought. It would be nice, to have a good idea of what they were working with, and of just what Donald Prenderghast had learned, and what had freaked him out enough that he left Gravity Falls and never looked back.

Norman piled small leather-bound journals and notebooks up as he went, dusting off the desk and chair and surrounding cabinets. There was a small, wire wastepaper basket on the side of the desk, a few crumpled up pieces of paper still in it. Norman’s first thought was to empty the trash, but he hesitated. Tossed away or not, there could still be something important on those papers.

He tossed the crumpled balls into his little box of paperwork, before setting the trash bin back down. He (or perhaps he and Dipper) could unfold them later, and check them out.

Once he’d taken away the books and papers on the desk and in its drawers, he emptied the filing cabinets, pulling out stacks of papers and file folders and dumping them. These looked like real paperwork, not journal entries, tax certificates and information about properties and credit cards. They were all yellowed with dates ranging from the 60s to the late 90s, before Norman was even born-old as hell by his standards. He figured his mom might need to go through them, and debated on just leaving them out in the shed. But there could be something important hidden in the stacks of documents, and it wouldn’t hurt to look through and organize them a little before handing them over.

He barely noticed when he’d cleaned everything out, he was too lost in thought-thought about the town, and about Dipper, and about what his great grandfather must have seen- and he suddenly found himself staring down at the boxes orderly filled with papers and writings like they’d appeared out of the blue. Time flies when you’re busy wondering about what potential undead horrors lie in wait in Gravity Falls, apparently.

He lifted the boxes with a heft, struggling to make it through the door and maze of miscellaneous lawn supplies without dropping them.

“There you are!” His mom greeted when he reached the house, holding the door open for him. “Your room’s down the hall, if you want to move in.”

“What?” Norman asked, letting the boxes fall to the floor with a thump and a flutter of paper.

“You snooze you lose. Courtney and your father and I have already picked which rooms we wanted to stay in, but yours is still nice.” She pointed down to the smallest bedroom of the house. “And having a little private space to yourself is always good, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s fine, I don’t need a huge room anyways. I just have to take these,” He motioned to the boxes, now lying on the floor. “Over there and then I’ll bring my suitcase and stuff.”

“Oh, what are those?” Sandra’s brow furrowed as she looked into the boxes full of paperwork and lined paper pads.

“Some documents from the garage.” Norman said. “I, uh, figured I could sort them out first and see if any of them were important anymore.”

Norman cringed a little, feeling guilty for another half-truth. He just didn’t want his parents getting _weird_ about any of this, like they always did. He knew on some level it was just worry for his safety that made them look uneasy whenever he mentioned supernatural things, but he didn’t _want_ them to worry, and he didn’t want them to treat him like some fragile kid either.

His mom just beamed, though, and said “That’s so nice of you. Courtney could take care of those, though, and you could help your father out with the manual labor.”

Norman lifted the boxes up with a heft. “I think Courtney’s stronger than me anyways. This is fine.”

Sandra shrugged. “Alright then. I’ve got a folder going of important documents we’ll need if we’re to sell this place, if anything in there is essential I’ll add it to the pile.”

Norman nodded, heading down towards the last empty room in the house. He could see the other two bedrooms-all three of them were right next to each other-where his family members had already scattered their luggage and makeshift beds.

The room he’d been left with was the smallest of all of them, but it didn’t bother him. Their house in Blithe Hollow was small, too, and he liked the cozy feeling his attic room had. This room wasn’t an attic room, though, and it lacked a few other things that his room at home had. The walls were wood-grain, Norman thought the style looked reminiscent of _some_ era, maybe the 60s, and they were noticeably lacking the layers of horror movie posters that his other room had accumulated. There was a low bookshelf, empty and dusty now, running along the outside wall. A window, tall and single-paned, let light filter in softly from the outside. His room had a view out south towards the road.

There was a small bed in the room. His mom had been skeptical about the cleanliness of the house and it’s furnishings, but after a thorough inspection, she’d decided most of the house was fine, despite being unlived in for so many years. She’d still gone down to the local Gravity Falls superstore, though, and bought some sort of bed-bug-proof cover for the mattresses. She said it was better safe than sorry, but Norman just thought that the fabric felt weird, like wax paper under his hands, as he laid down on the bed, staring up at the log cabin ceiling. At least he had a bed to lie on.

He really ought to bring his things into the room. A pillow and a few blankets would make the room feel much cozier, even if they weren’t needed-between the warm summer sunlight hitting his feet and the hot Oregon air, the room was almost stuffy.

He returned quickly to the room, towing a rolling suitcase and holding a dufflebag over his shoulder. He let them both fall to the floor with a soft thump, fishing around in the mess of unfolded clothing and miscellaneous toiletries and electronics as he tried to find something to put on the bed. He came up with the blanket his mom had made him take on the plane in case he got cold, and his phone.

He laid the blanket out on the bed, and then laid back down on top of it, flicking his phone on mostly out of pure habit. He checked his messages, seeing if Neil had texted him. He hadn’t, which Norman felt disappointed about for a moment, before he reasoned that Neil was probably just busy today, and they’d stayed up last night texting about stupid, silly stuff anyways. He distracted himself by scrolling through the rest of his previous texts, hovering over the tab that said Dipper in big bold letters.

It couldn’t hurt, he figured, and sent off a text.

[11:58 PM] **Norman** **Babcock** : Hey. When did you want to hang out?

Summer was short, he might as well spend it with the boy who had a journal filled with the supernatural secrets of this town rather than waiting for the perfect moment to message him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, i'm sorry for basically not posting for a month! stuff happened, and then more stuff happened, and then excuses, and more excuses, and etcetera, etcetera.
> 
> hopefully this monstrous FOUR THOUSAND WORD chapter will make up for it, at least a little bit. it better, because this was HELL to edit. forgive any lingering mistakes or weird phrasings, i would've gone crazy if i forced myself to stare at and tweak this chapter any more.
> 
> the next few chapters after this are short and won't take quite as long to edit, so keep an eye out tonight or tomorrow for more. i'm excited to get back into the swing of writing! and i now know to never, EVER write a chapter this long again. have i mentioned how much i hated editing this?

Dipper and Mabel had been in Gravity Falls for over a week now, and Dipper felt like he’d finally settled back into the rhythm of summer.

He thought Mabel probably had, too. Right now she was down in the shack, watching silly movies and baking sugar cookies with Candy and Grenda. He could hear their shrieks of excitement and their laughter drifting up from the living room.

He was sitting on the roof, the spot of Wendy’s secret hideaway (not that it was a secret any more, if it ever was), with a soda and a bag of chips, watching the woods. He’d brought the journal up, always in search of new theories and ways to pick apart its contents, but it was now lying forgotten on the wooden shingles.

Piedmont, and the whole school year, had been so busy and chaotic and mechanical-feeling. The days were short and busy and filled with chores and homework and getting worked up over little things like rough patches in friendships and who was doing what this weekend, and being forced to confront the thought of colleges and the future.

But here, under the Oregon sun, soda in his hand sweating in the heat, birds chattering far off in the pine trees, everything felt different. It was familiar and calm and safe and unchanging. Gravity Falls was its own little living creature, a bubble in time where everyone was a little odd, everything was a little unexplainable, and anything could happen. The days were long and lazy and filled with endless potential and adventure. He didn’t have to worry about fleeting crushes on random girls in school, about him and Mabel getting their learner’s permits, about the other myriad of things his anxieties flipped through whenever he could sit still.

And he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Gravity Falls always changed. It was never the same each year. The town aged and grew and shrunk, and his friends got older, and people started new relationships or ended old ones, and it always took a little getting used to, acclimating to whatever had changed while they were gone. But there was still that Gravity Falls feeling of freedom; a respite from work and routine and a chance to spend a few months in the weirdest town in Oregon. And when thoughts and worries about the future tried to worm their way into his head, when he was in Gravity Falls he could tangle his hands into the clover-dotted grass, feel the Oregon dirt below his feet, and remind himself that he was here, and here meant no worries and magic and possibility.

He watched the trees, the endless expanse of greenery around the shack, listening to the birds and the squirrels chatter angrily to each other.

His phone buzzed, and he realized he’d been lost in daydreams. He snapped back to reality, fumbling for his phone and shielding the screen from the sunlight to read it. It was another text from Norman, reminding him of their plans to go over those notebooks today.

They’d been texting off and on for the past few days-Dipper was slowly filling him in on all the weird things about Gravity Falls, and all the adventures him and Mabel have found themselves on in the past four years-and they finally both had time to hang out and look over Norman’s great-grandpa’s writings today. Mabel had shook her head when he’d asked if she wanted to come along, saying Candy and Grenda were coming over anyway, and that reading a bunch of old dusty books sounded boring and nerdy. Dipper had said fair enough, even though he thought she was completely wrong.

He sent off a quick text to Norman, answering his questions on gnomes and telling him that’d he would leave soon. He swore he could smell vanilla and sugar and sappy romcoms, and figured Mabel and the gang were still busy partying. He wouldn’t interrupt them, except maybe to steal a few cookies, he thought as he stood up.

“Hi!” Grenda waved to him as he passed through the kitchen. Mabel and Candy were too busy staring, transfixed, at the screen.

“Hey,” Dipper said, taking one of the cookies from the plate on the table as he walked past.

“Hey! Stealer!” Mabel accused.

Dipper shoved the entire cookie in his mouth defiantly.

“Unbelievable,” Mabel said. “You see what I have to deal with?” she asked Candy and Grenda.

Dipper said, voice a little muffled by the brightly-iced cookie. “I’m gonna go.”

“To the nerd convention?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said. “Sure you don’t want to come? There are piles of old dusty books just waiting to be read.”

“No thanks,” Mabel said, then considered. “...Unless there’s talk of dragons, let me know about that. I still want to find dragons. This town _has_ to have them.”

Dipper looked skeptical, “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“My hopes are _always_ up for dragons.”

“Technically, they could exist!” Grenda insisted. “And I’m taming the first one I see.”

“Bye!” Dipper said, pocketing his phone and heading out the door.

 

When Dipper knocked on the door to Norman’s house-or, where he was staying for the summer, Dipper figured it wasn’t really his _house_ -a tall girl with long blonde hair opened the door. Dipper recognized her from the Mystery Shack, and felt a flash of embarrassment, he hoped he hadn’t formed a bad first impression.

“Hi.”

She watched him with a gaze that seemed both slightly air-headed and evaluating-Dipper got the impression that she probably looked at everyone like this-for a moment before she yelled back into the house. “Norm, your boy’s here!”

After a moment Norman appeared from behind a corner, expression brightening when he set eyes on Dipper.

“Hey,” Norman greeted. “Just you?”

It took Dipper a moment to process the question, busy looking around the house as he stepped inside. “Oh, yeah. Just me. Mabel’s busy today. She also said that sorting through a bunch of books sounded like nerd stuff.”

Norman looked like he was considering this. “Yeah,” he agreed after a moment.

“So... you said you boxed up everything you could find in the shed?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got everything sorted out over here...” Norman led him down the hall.

“Hi!” a disembodied voice cried from somewhere in the house. “Is that the Pines?”

“Just Dipper,” Norman said.

Norman’s mom appeared from another room then, smiling at the boys. Dipper raised a hand in greeting.

“What are you kids even doing? Something about papers?”

“Yep,” Norman said.

“Oh. So what’s so exciting about papers?” she asked, more out of courtesy then genuine interest as she fiddled with the contents of a toolbox.

Dipper started, with his usual enthusiasm he seemed to carry about any supernatural occurrence “Well, actually, there were some old journals in there too, with-“

“With some writings about the town and life back in those days,” Norman talked over him hastily, “And Dipper figured they might  be, like, antique stuff that people might be interested in. So we were gonna check them out!”

There was a beat as his mom looked between the two of them, Dipper staring perplexedly at Norman.

“Ah, okay then,” she said, bustling off to the other end of the house.

Dipper turned to Norman after he shut the door, looking confused, but Norman beat him to it. “Ah, sorry about that!”

Dipper’s first reaction was to say “It’s okay!” though he realized immediately afterwards that he still did want an actual explanation. “Uh, though, what was that about?”

“My parents still get... kinda _weird_ about the ghosts thing,” Norman sighed, going to sit down on the bed “They’re cooler with it, now, but they worry about me. They don’t want me getting into trouble with anyone, living or dead,” He looked up, “I just didn’t want to worry them.”

“Oh,” Dipper suddenly felt silly for asking, it should’ve been obvious. He shouldn’t have counted on everyone being as dismissive as Stan was about the paranormal. “And you didn’t tell them you’ve barely seen any ghosts here, huh?” he worked out, going over to the boxes of books to pick through them.

“Well, no... I didn’t want them to think I’d grown out of it or been cured or worry that something bad was happening to me,” Norman said, looking sheepish now. “It’s just kind of hard to deal with them, sometimes- they don’t quite get the supernatural, so it’s not easy to talk to them about it.”

“Ah...” Dipper paused, silent for a moment or two. “I get that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, no one really believes me about Gravity Falls. Most people who live here are completely oblivious to everything that goes on, or straight-up in denial. I mean, even Grunkle Stan doesn’t really believe Mabel and I when we tell him about our supernatural adventures. So eventually I stopped trying so hard to get people to see this town for what it was,” he shrugged “That’s just how it is, sometimes, I think.”

“Really? I would’ve thought it would be easier to show people this town’s weirdness. I mean, for a while, a _long_ while, it was just my word against my parents. I couldn’t prove that I was seeing ghosts, no matter how real they were to me. But Gravity Falls... the things here are flesh and blood. Anyone out in the woods can find them.”

“People can ignore anything if they try hard enough,” Dipper said “There are a billion ways to write off a weird creature in the woods, or odd lights in the sky.”

“I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence as they both thought of something more to say about it, but could find nothing.

Dipper squirmed in the silence, the second of awkwardness as they both struggled for another conversation topic.

“So, these books!” Norman jumped down off of the bed, going to one of the boxes.

“Yes. The books.” Dipper said, fiddling with the cardboard on the edge of a box as Norman sifted through papers and journals.

“I haven’t sorted them too much, but I figured we can just go through them and start reading. And there’s some, like, folders full of legal documents and stuff, too. I kinda just grabbed everything in the shed. Maybe they’ll end up being useful?”

“Yeah, maybe. It doesn’t hurt to check them out,” Dipper said, pulling out one dusty stack.

Norman deposited a handful onto the bed, “Oh, and I don’t really have, like... chairs or anything here. We can sit on the bed?” it was more of a question than an offer.

“Sure,” Dipper said, sitting down and opening one of the notebooks. He looked up, glint of excitement in his eye. After a moment, he announced, “So... I have a plan.”

“Oh?” Norman asked.

Dipper produced a small empty spiral-bound book, and a few pens and pencils that looked to be slightly chewed, from his vest, and set them out between him and Norman. “We read all of these, and write down anything about ghosts. Even if it seems only slightly important, even if it seems like it’s not important at all, jot it down in the book. That way, we don’t miss or forget anything,” he flipped the book open, “And we’ll solve this mystery.”

Norman smiled amusedly, “You came prepared.”

“Hey, I’m all about doing it _right_. You can’t just do 75%,” Dipper lectured.

“Alright,” Norman said, still watching Dipper with an amused look. But Dipper noticed it was affectionate, not belittling or humoring.

“Let’s get to work,” He said, looking away from Norman and cracking open one of the many notebooks.

It was dated June 4th, 1996, in a tidy handwriting. The pages were stiff and a little delicate-feeling, like it had been well-worn at the time it was used, but now it had become brittle again after years of sitting locked away in some desk.

Immediately, he noticed something. This guy really _did_ write about _everything_ he did.

_June 4_

_The chickens laid 3 eggs today. That’s quite a lot! If they keep up at this pace, I might have to start selling the eggs. Or maybe make a big cake. What takes a lot of eggs to bake? I’ll have to go into town and buy one of them new cookbooks._

Dipper’s enthusiasm suddenly sputtered and died as he realized the sheer amount of stuff they had to read, and the fact that it mostly looked like the books were just a diary of day-to-day life. _Why_ did he decide to do this?!

Dipper flipped through the pages, glancing over each page for anything that looked important. He resolved to find something important in these books if it _killed him_.

He paused a handful of pages later, skimming each entry for anything that seemed relevant.

_June 29_

_Went to town today, and spent the whole time wandering the streets there. This town is quite interesting, I’m starting to learn. My memory is patchy, but I’ve seen many strange things in the woods. And strange ghosts too._

This was what he needed to find-something about ghosts!

And maybe he was reading into i, but did this imply that Donald Prenderghast had not just seen animal and human ghosts, but the ghosts of supernatural creatures too?

Dipper pulled out his own journal, flipping to the first page on ghosts, which he’d covered over a few days earlier in various excited sticky notes, and scrawled something else down in the margins. _Supernatural beings can possibly become ghosts as well. Raises the question of souls?_ He wrote, dotting the question mark with a decisive tap.

Norman looked up at that, “Is that The Journal?” he asked, and he said it like that, too, capitals and all, like it was official. Dipper figured he’d babbled on about it long enough that anyone listening would have to give it an official title (like Dipper did) at some point.

Dipper nodded, flipping it closed again and showing Norman the cover, the now-worn six-fingered hand symbol shimmering in the light, “Yup.”

“Cool,” Norman was leaning over in Dipper’s direction as he flipped through the pages again, through rows of messy writing and scattered sketches and illustrations of fantastical beasts.

“Yeah!” Dipper said, going through the pages. He stopped to explain a few of them, or mention interesting facts and stories about them.

He paused on the page about gnomes.

“Oh man.”

“What?” Norman asked at Dipper’s half-laugh.

“So... these guys. The gnomes. When we first came to Gravity Falls, they- like- dressed up as a person and tried to date Mabel.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yeah.”

Norman laughed, a sound that surprised Dipper. It was nothing against Norman, but the boy was tall and wispy thin and paler than anything, and could _see ghosts_ of all things, and so it didn’t seem like he _should_ laugh, let alone giggle like he did, genuine and unabashed. “And no one noticed?”

“Well- I- I thought _something_ was up,” Dipper protested, “Though, I thought he was a zombie. I was way off.”

Norman snickered again, “Dude, trust me. If it was a zombie, you would notice the smell.”

“Well, I know that _now_. If I’d’ve had more time I would have figured it out. Maybe.”

“So what happened?” Norman relaxed as they talked, taking in the journal in all its scrawled, beaten-up glory.

“Well, we kicked his ass. Their ass. The gnome’s asses. Though technically, they were called Norman.”

“Norman the ‘zombie’?” Norman said with a smirk, including air quotes around the word zombie.

“Mhm. Just like you,” Dipper teased.

“Are you implying that I’m a zombie, or implying that I’m a bunch of gnomes who you _think_ is a zombie?”

“I dunno, which is it?”

“Zomb- I mean- Human, obviously. Alive human,” Norman’s mock serious facade was spoiled as he laughed half way through his sentence.

Dipper chuckled, realizing he felt at ease around Norman. He liked his sense of humor. And he was glad to have a friend who was as interested in the supernatural as he himself was.

Dipper looked back to the journal, flipping through the pages again, trying to find other interesting creatures to tell Norman about. He reached one that was all too familiar to him-spattered and scribbled-over and worn-and felt a thrill of anxiety in his stomach, quickly turning to the next page.

“What was that?” Norman asked, “Before?” Something about it had caught his eye.

“Oh-uh,” the relaxed smile on Dipper’s face faltered, and he worried at the edge of the page he was holding before finally deciding to turn it back. The journal fell open, revealing the illustration of Bill, who would’ve looked almost cartoonish on paper if not for the splash of red across the pages, and hurriedly-written warnings surrounding him.

Norman leaned closer to read the page, eyebrows arched.

“That’s Bill.”

“Bill?” Norman’s lips turned up in an almost-smile for a moment, before falling as he noticed Dipper’s face, hard and unamused.

“He’s a... demon,” Dipper said, “Maybe less in the sense that you’d expect, but- He’s not all fire and cloven hooves or anything, but he’s not good news.”

Norman looked back to the page, expression still and solemn.

“He’s a mind demon. He’s invaded my great uncle’s mind to try and steal the shack. He’s tricked anyone in the town who’s useful to him. He’s tricked me. He’s tried to destroy the journal, he’s tried to destroy my family.” Dipper shivered. “He’s possessed me.”

Norman’s eyes widened, watching Dipper with a concerned look as he talked.

Dipper swallowed, and tried to wish the tremor in his voice away before he spoke. “But we’ve beaten him before. If he ever comes back, we’ll just beat him again.”

Norman was still quiet, watching him. They weren’t just laughing about furred trout and fairies like before; now they were talking serious, dangerous stuff, and by the cold look on Dipper’s face, this was stuff that had affected him. “That’s good.” Norman said, looking like he had a lot more to say, but no way of saying it.

“It’s- it’s alright. We know how to stop him now.” Dipper said, trying to reassure either Norman or himself.

Norman watched, quiet, for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something, or maybe give Dipper a hug, but instead he reached out a hand tentatively to pat Dipper on the shoulder. “Well, if he ever tries to mess with you again, I’ll punch him.”

Dipper laughed, and while there was an edge to it, he relaxed a little, letting the anxiety from his memories of Bill fade. “He’s a two-dimensional triangle. And he has no physical form.”

“Well, then I’ll stare disapprovingly at him.” Norman said. “He deserves it.”

“Good. He does.” Dipper said, flipping the journal closed and picking back up one of Donald Prenderghast’s notebooks to continue working.

Norman watched Dipper for a moment, before scooting back to the other side of the bed and doing the same.

It took Dipper reading it a good few times to fully process the name Prenderghast. By the fourth or fifth time he read it, he realized it sounded familiar.

“Prenderghast... Prender. You named your ParaHangout account after your great-grandfather?” Dipper asked, looking up again from the notebook he was working on.

Norman looked surprised at the sudden break in silence, pausing his writing. “Well, not exactly. It’s just a family name.”

“But you’re Norman Babcock, aren’t you?” Dipper continued, though he knew he shouldn’t pry. He just couldn’t help himself and his curiosity.

“Well, yeah. My mom’s side is the Prenderghasts. And they’re kind of the ones who can see ghosts, too. Well, not all of them. My mom can’t see them, but my uncle could,” Norman said.

“Oh!” Dipper said. “Cool!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s cool that it’s, like, this whole family thing,” Dipper fumbled.

“Hm. Yeah,” Norman said. “I guess it is, I hadn’t really thought about it like that.”

And the conversation faded back into a calm silence again, any potential tension in the quiet air broken by the sound of pages being turned and ballpoint pens jotting down notes.

Slowly, they worked through the pile of journals and papers, and Dipper’s notepad became covered in more and more scribbled anecdotes and questions.

Dipper closed his most recent notebook with a definitive clap and a puff of dust, reaching into the box to grab the last one. He noted, reading the date on the cover, that it was the most recent one, pushed to the bottom of the stack as Norman unpacked drawers, no doubt.

_December 2_

_It keeps coming back. I’ve blocked off the gates and tried to keep it at bay, but it keeps coming back. None of the tricks have worked for long, and I fear it may not stop at ghosts this time._

_I fear I won’t be able to stop it. I might as well leave while I still can. Maybe it has a taste for mediums. I feel like it’s been watching me. It knows I can see it._

Dipper blinked, suddenly feeling he was missing something. The journals he’d read before had all been fairly boring, scattered with a few random ghost anecdotes that he squirreled away in the journal to theorize about later. This had to be what they were looking for, and it sounded like major bad news, but Dipper had no context of what the old Prenderghast was talking about.

“Oh, Dipper, listen to this,” Norman said. He was holding a book dated slightly earlier than Dippers. He tapped a page of it, and started to read aloud. “I’ve finally found out what’s wrong with the ghosts in this town. There’s nothing wrong with them, but there’s something out there. I think it’s killing ghosts! Re-killing them! I’ve seen it a few times, by the lake, I’ll head down there again Tuesday to try and find what exactly it’s doing,” Norman looked up, not sure what to think. “It sounds crazy! But he must be right, this must be what’s going on, right? This is the only explanation we’ve found, and it would line up with that spooked ghost I saw- But it sounds too weird, doesn’t it?”

“No, man, I think it is right,” Dipper said. “Cause I think this book is talking about whatever _that_ book is talking about,” he showed Norman the page he was on, and Norman leaned over the pile of papers and books between them to read it.

Norman’s eyes darted down the page, wide with interest. He looked back up to Dipper, “So... wait. Is there a super scary ghost-killing monster roaming Gravity Falls?”

Dipper took the book back, flipping through the pages and skimming through ramblings about where to move to and when to go and vague fearful writings, until he found the last written page, near the middle of the book. The rest of the pages sprayed out, creamy-white and unwritten. He read out the last entry “6:30 Flight tomorrow to Florida. Don’t forget bags, remember to get a Taxi. Alarm set for 4:00.

Goodbye Gravity Falls! And good riddance,” and sighed. “Well, that’s where this book ends. And it doesn’t say anything more specific about this ghost killer.”

Norman commiserated “I’ve finished this book, too. He just mentioned it could kill ghosts, and that was all.”

“Hmmm,” Dipper leaned back, putting a hand on his chin. After the initial blood-chilling discovery, he found himself fairly bored and underwhelmed by what the books had to offer. They weren’t much closer to solving this whole mess yet. He grabbed his notepad to write their new discovery down in chunky, intense letters. “You said the ghost you saw was scared, and there weren’t many other ghosts. So that has to be because of whatever thing your great grandfather was talking about. It’s too specific to be a coincidence.”

Norman nodded, looking thoughtful. He grabbed the now-empty cardboard box he’d used to carry the journals in, but paused when he noticed something rattling around in it. Norman reached in to grab the ball of crumpled paper that was rolling at the very bottom of the box.

“But we need to find some way to learn more about this thing. But we barely know anything about it...”

There was a crinkling of paper as Norman straightened out a rumpled sheet of paper, squinting to make sense of it, “Dipper.”

“What?” Dipper asked, looking up to Norman’s face, eyebrows arched in interest.

Norman flipped the piece of paper around, showing it to Dipper. The words ‘The ghost-killer’ were written sloppily in the top right corner, and at the bottom of the page it read ‘The most I could see of it’ between the two chunks of text, was a crude pencil drawing of something, haunting and big-looking. It was dark and scribbly and out-of focus, graphite smudged and hazy save for the pair of big white eyes staring out from the middle of the drawing.  

“So...  I think this might be what we’re looking for.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a short little chapter! more to come soon, with any luck, and i hope people will have fun reading the next few chapters, cause i dare say i'm having fun writing them!

After they’d put away the boxes of books and papers (Dipper had organized them by date), Dipper had torn off a page from his notepad, copied down onto it everything they learned about whatever was in Gravity Falls, and handed it to Norman.

“So we’ll both have all the information on this thing,” he’d said, stuffing the journal back into his vest.

Norman taped the notepaper up on his wall, re-reading Dipper’s hasty handwriting. Below it, he taped the drawing of the ghost killer that his great grandpa had drawn.

He laid back on the bed, watching the papers he’d just taped up on the wall and the dappled sunlight filtering in through the window as he mulled over him and Dipper’s discoveries.

He thought back to their day-dull as can be, sorting through old dusty notebooks for the slightest hint of a lead-and decided that, even if it seemed boring, he’d had fun. And it seemed like Dipper did, too- Dipper clearly liked hanging out with him.

The thought made Norman’s ego puff up, in a prideful, self-satisfied way. But past the basic flattery of being liked, was the fact that Norman liked Dipper, too. Back home, in Blithe Hollow, he didn’t make friends often or easily, and new people hardly ever moved to town. It was the same group of kids in the same school every year; and while he didn’t know all of them, most of them knew him and his reputation. Here, he had a completely fresh start, and a town full of interesting people. And Dipper, the boy who knew everything about the supernatural, who Norman quite enjoyed talking to and theorizing with, was deciding to spend time with Norman!

Norman found he did miss Blithe Hollow, though, the novelty of a new town and new friends aside. As perplexing and strange and new as Gravity Falls was, he missed his friends and his home town. Earlier, he’d reassured himself that he would be back home soon enough, back to the normal routine. Now, much as he missed Neil and Selma and the rest of them, he was also tangled up in Gravity Falls, in this ghost mystery and in the lives of the Pines twins. He reassured himself, this time, that there was still plenty of summer left, but as much as he hated to think about it, he still wondered: what if this whole thing was unsolvable? What if it was really nothing after all? What if he (and Dipper, and Mabel...) never figured it out?

For the first time in a while, it felt like new things were happening. He was in a new place and he was making new friends and uncovering new questions and mysteries-but the thought that he only had one chance, one summer, to do everything loomed.

He hoped, by the time they left, that he’d have spent it well.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, have another impromptu chapter. a 2:24 AM chapter, as well, so hopefully the writing isn't too awkward. i don't really know how to handle writing romance, but i'm trying my best...

The sun was low in the sky, the insects coming out in droves to lap up the last of the sunlight by the time Dipper returned to the Mystery Shack.

The first thing he noticed when he slammed the front door open was that Candy and Grenda were still there, building some sort of elaborate blanket fort with Mabel (and Soos, who appeared to have been recruited to gather pillows for them).

“Hey!” Dipper called into the mess of a living room when he entered, piling his journal and notes on the table.

“Dipper!” Something that sounded like Mabel crowed from the pile of blankets. “Come over here, bro!”

He hesitated, eyeing the fort with caution.

“Come on!”

Dipper gave out a defeated-sounding sigh, and crawled into the elaborately-constructed pillow fort, pushing stuffed animals and blankets aside.

He decided immediately that it was too hot out for a structure made of quilts and comforters to exist in the cramped house. He also realized, once he was in the fort, how expansive their blanket kingdom was-and how many natural laws it seemed to be breaking by continuing to stand. “How did you guys _build_ this?” Dipper asked, “And why?”

“Want some popcorn?” Candy countered, holding out a bowl to him.

“Okay...” Dipper said warily, reaching out a hand to take some and regretting it slightly when he realized they’d put both copious amounts of butter and cinnamon sugar on it. He decided to scrutinize the fort more rather than risking a bite of the popcorn, “Mabel, did you steal every blanket and pillow in the shack for this?”

“What? No!” Mabel said. “That would be ridiculous. And impossible. So how’d it go with Norman?” Dipper would’ve protested Mabel’s lies and thievery further, if it wasn’t for the fact that he actually really wanted to tell Mabel about the whole ghost killer thing. “Really well!” he said, taking a chance and eating the over-seasoned popcorn. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected it would be. “We found some writing about, like, a monster that kills ghosts? It sounds crazy, but don’t think it is. We’ll have to go out and find more evidence for it... Mabel, I think Norman’s on to something big, we-”

“The expansion is complete!” Came Grenda’s booming voice suddenly, from somewhere beyond the bounds of the pillow fort, and then there was a great rustling and shuffling of blankets and stuffed animals.

Dipper, too surprised to finish his sentence, wondered for a moment if the fort was collapsing as their blanket-crafted ceiling and walls began to shift, when Grenda appeared, rearranging the various pillows and quilts until she’d created a tunnel to a whole new section of the fort. Dipper peered past her. It looked like the fort had now consumed the entire living room and was making its way through the kitchen.

 “Yess! More room!” Mabel cheered, stretching out on the floor towards the recently-constructed section.

Grenda posed in the newly-created room, and Mabel laughed as Waddles ran towards her. Having known Mabel for his (and her) entire life, he knew when she was a lost cause. Trying to talk to her about anything not slumber party- related at the moment would be fairly pointless.

“Er, well, I’ll tell you more about it later, then,” Dipper decided, shuffling awkwardly backwards out of the fort.

“Oh, sorry!” Grenda said. “You can hang out with us if you want?”

“We made more cookies. We put some popcorn on them. And in them,” Candy said.

“It’s fine-“ Dipper said. Truthfully, he wanted to read up more about ghosts, and text Norman.

“We’re talking about cruuushes!” Grenda offered, singsong.

“Well, I don’t have any, so bye,” Dipper said distractedly, making another attempt to disentangle himself from the mess of pillows and plushes in the fort.

“ _What_?!” Mabel looked scandalized. “This is summer, you gotta have a crush!”

“No,” Dipper said, “The person you’re thinking of who goes through an insane amount of crushes per year is you.”

“Suuure. Dipper, you have like, one major crush every summer-you can’t just _not_ have one this year. By now, it’s tradition! The first summer it was Wendy, after that it was P-“

“Okay, okay, wait!” Dipper inturrupted. “Fine. Summer crushes, or whatever.” He blushed. He really did not need Candy and Grenda knowing every one of his past embarrassing crushes.

Though, he realized belatedly, Mabel had probably already told them already.

And, he realized again, he was never renown for his subtlety about crushes-maybe they knew anyway.

Mabel smirked. “Alright, so we are in agreement that you still need a summer crush this year.”

“I- no, we are not. I can do without a crush.”

Mabel shook her head sadly. Grenda and Candy seemed to agree, sharing pitying looks amongst each other.

“Life’s boring without some romance and excitement!” Mabel encouraged. “You gotta find _someone_ to crush on, bro.”

“That’s- that’s not how crushes even work-“ Dipper protested distantly, but Mabel was still talking.

“I’ll make you a list to consider,” Mabel said, sounding determined. She put her hands on her hips, to look extra decided.

Dipper shook his head. “Good luck with that. I’m gonna go talk to Norman while you guys keep committing crimes against god and normal food combinations...”

Mabel gasped excitedly, and Dipper’s brain realized the mistake he’d made a split second before she started talking, a feeling of dawning horror overtaking him, “That’s it! Norman! He’s the perfect summer crush.”

Dipper looked aghast and regretful. He should never have mentioned Norman.

“A mysterious, supernatural boy, who by some coincidence you’ve talked to before! In the same town, for only this summer! It’s ideal,” Mabel continued. “And he’s got a dark secret. Or, the town has a dark secret, that he knows about, so close enough. The only thing that would make it better was if he was a vampire. That would be _perfect_.”

“Ew,” Dipper scrunched up his nose, hoping it was the stifling blanket palace and not an incriminatingly visible blush making his face heat up, “Why don’t _you_ get a crush on him, then?”

“Dipper, _please_. He’s not quite my type. But I’d say he’s definitely yours-“

“Goodbye,” Dipper said, making a show of struggling free from the entanglements of the pillow fort, and just walking off.

“Hey, wait! Just bear with me, alright?” When Dipper just continued up the stairs to their room, Mabel yelled. “Is it his hair? Is that a problem? We can find someone else!”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CASUALLY ABANDONS 30,000+ WORD FANFIC FOR TWO MONTHS AND THEN SUDDENLY POSTS A NEW CHAPTER
> 
> haha, but seriously, i do feel bad for neglecting this fic. i'd just lost interest for a while and had other stuff going on, creative projects and otherwise, and so silly crossover fanfiction was kind of low on the priority list. BUT! i did write like two chapters before i forgot about it entirely, and the other night i got around to re-reading them and remembered that writing is fun and im pretty okay at it, so i figured i oughta edit and post them. 
> 
> i did stop writing it for a reason, that being that i'm pretty dang busy now and spending most of my time and energy on other stuff (writing blog posts, working on drawing my new webcomic, and doing a LOT of gardening and yard work) so i make no promises about updating OFTEN ...but i realized i really do want to see this story through, and i'd like to have something totally silly and fun to write again.  
> up until now, though, i haven't taken writing this that seriously, which is probably not a bad thing except for my lackadaisical attitude towards certain important aspects of storytelling (such as having a well though out and comprehensive plot) which have made it harder to write than it should be. i may try and force myself to sit down and plot out the story on a chapter-by-chapter basis at some point and get that settled, which should make writing easier, so i can get back into the swing of things!
> 
> ...if i have the time and the motivation.
> 
> if not, there's still this and one other chapter (that needs a bit more editing) on the way.
> 
> (also, its ridiculously late and my eyes keep just sort of glazing over when i look at words, so i hope both my editing and this little update/thinking aloud thing makes sense)

[2:15 PM] **Dipper** : hey

[2:17 PM] **Norman** : Hi. What’s up?

[2:18 PM] **Dipper** : that was cool, goin thru those books and stuff.

[2:18 PM] **Dipper** : i hope we can find out more about this whole ghost thing before the summers over...

[5:19 PM] **Dipper** : and i was wondering if you wanted to head out with me and mabel on another monster hunt.. thing?

[2:19 PM] **Dipper:** i promise it will be more interesting than that lame “abandoned house” thing. the journal has a whole section on kelpies, and apparently they should be out and about this time of year. apparently people have been seeing stuff by the lake again...

[2:22 PM] **Norman** : Dude, Kelpies?! Half of my brain doesn’t believe that, and the other half is just thinking about how cool that is. What time?

[2:23 PM] **Dipper** : whatever works for you! ill check with mabel, but i think we’re free whenever.

Dipper had texted Norman the next day about whether or not he wanted to go on an adventure with him and Mabel-a _proper_ adventure. Norman wasn’t usually the kind for adventure, not if it was too dangerous (Norman had had enough of that), but Dipper had told him so much about the amazing things he and Mabel had discovered in Gravity Falls, and honestly, Norman was kind of jealous. Dipper’s the one who gets to spend every summer soaking up the weirdness of Gravity Falls, who’s run into enough mythic creatures to make any paranormal investigation TV show host green with envy, who can go out looking for the magical and _find_ it... Norman didn’t want to pass up on a chance to join the Pines twins on their escapades, and he liked the idea of being a _part_ of Dipper’s (poorly-told) spooky stories, rather than just a listener.

So Norman had agreed, and with that, they were going on what Dipper had promised would be a real, exciting monster hunt.

And now Norman was standing, looking around searchingly by the lake for any sign of the Pines twins. It was late in the day, a warm summer evening, but the lake was quiet and empty save for a few fishermen on boats. The only living residents seemed to be mosquitos and various ducks.

Norman wandered down to the water’s edge, and heard the sound of footsteps approaching in gravelly sand.

“Hey!” Dipper waved, him and Mabel rounding a bend along the shoreline.

“Hey,” Norman said, stumbling on the shore a little as Mabel went in for a leaping bear hug, “What’s up?”

“We’ve been waiting for you, silly,” Mabel said, bopping him on the nose.

“And scouting out the lake,” Dipper added.

“Oh. What’s the plan?” Norman asked, looking between the two of them. It struck him how alike the twins were.

“Well, we have to be careful,” Dipper started, “According to the journal, kelpies are very dangerous-in keeping with the legends about them.”

“Don’t worry, though,” Mabel said, producing a large grappling hook, “I’m prepared.”

“Yes,” Dipper said, “And speaking of, the number one rule with kelpies: do _not_ touch them. Today Mabel and I were just planning on doing a recon mission, to verify that there are even still kelpies in Gravity Falls-so there shouldn’t be any need to get close to them in the first place. But the rule still stands. Also, if they are as equine as you’d expect, then they probably have some pretty deadly hooves on them, too, so stay away from those. We should have enough cameras between all of us, but remember: staying safe is more important than getting photographic evidence. You can’t be too cautious when it comes to the supernatural.”

“ _Well_...” Mabel interrupted, waving her hand in so-so agreement.

“You _can’t!_ ” Dipper insisted.

She shrugged, “Just sayin’. Sometimes you can. And will. And have been. Like that time w-”

“ _Anyways_ ,” he elbowed Mabel, though she seemed unfazed; Dipper’s attacks were weak at the best of times, “Just in case, we are going to be careful. If we do find a kelpie, we’ll take pictures and observe it from a distance without provoking it.”

Mabel produced a small polaroid camera, covered in stickers, waving it around in example.

“And I’ve got a phone, and I assume you’ve got a phone, and Mabel has a phone ...so we’re good,” Dipper said, “Ready to get started?”

Norman nodded, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Mabel said. “First off, I think we should split up.”

“Yes we- what?” Dipper looked to Mabel, “We literally just talked about this. We have to be careful, and stick together.”

“Yeah, you and Norman can stick together,” Mabel winked, “I’ve got a grappling hook and a mean _left_ hook; I’m good.”

“Mabel...” Dipper sighed, looking resigned already to his fate.

“Shh, I’ll be fine!” Mabel said, elbowing him and pushing him towards Norman. “Plus, we’ll make better time this way.”

Dipper looked pleadingly to Norman, who as a rule tried to stay out of conflict, especially sibling rivalries.

“I mean, it _would_ take less time...” Norman suggested.

Mabel gave Norman a big thumbs up and a grin as Dipper sighed, walking to stand by Norman. “Fine,” he conceded, “But be _careful_ , Mabel.”

“ _You two_ be careful,” Mabel nonsensically countered, “And lighten up, bro, I’m careful. And didn’t you see? _Grappling hook_!” She turned on her heel with a wink and finger guns directed towards Dipper.

“Okay, so, that’s happening, then,” Dipper said as he watched Mabel march off down the shoreline. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Norman reassured him. He, of all people, could understand weird and stubborn sisters.

Dipper toed the sand, digging his shoes into the gray gravel shore, lost in thought or in the patterns of driftwood and litter that danced along on the water.

“So, how do we find this thing?” Norman asked.

“Ah, yes,” Dipper said, snapped out of whatever he was doing. Norman wondered if he was fretting over Mabel, or if he wasn’t as prepared for this monster hunt as he’d seemed. “Well, we were meeting up at this spot along the shore because it’s right by the road... but further down the shore it gets more bog-like and sort of bramble-y. The Journal doesn’t have much on kelpies, but it does say they’re private and hard to spot, so I figured if we could find a kelpie anywhere, it might be there,” he pointed down the shore, in the opposite direction that Mabel had wandered off in.

The water’s edge was uneven, the lake curved inwards and outwards seemingly at random, and the bank was covered in pine trees that made it hard to get a good view of wherever they were supposed to be going. But Norman nodded anyways.

“Alright, sounds good,” Norman said, starting to head down the beach in the way Dipper had pointed, stepping over the charcoal remains of lakeside campfires and crushed beer cans along the way.

The afternoon was quiet, save for the sound of the water lapping slightly against the rocky shore and the sound of their shoes crunching into the pebble-covered beach. The breeze coming off of the water was cool, and smelled like mud and pond grass, though it was still early enough in the afternoon that the sun was warm against the back of their necks as they walked.

“So,” Dipper started, breaking the silence, “How’ve you been?”

“Um, good.” Norman said, clambering over a tree that had fallen across their path-the bank it had been growing on had washed away enough that it toppled itself over, roots sticking into the air like wannabe branches. “How have you been?”

“Watching a lot of TV, mostly,” Dipper said, following Norman over the mess of branches.

“Hah,” Norman said, “I _wish_ we had TV.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dipper said, “You’re in that old cabin.”

“Mhm.” Norman said.

There was another pause in the conversation as they walked, making their way steadily down the shore. The beach here, Norman noticed, was rockier than it was where they’d come from, and the water’s edge was lined with reeds. The ground was covered in less litter and footprints than before. Maybe they were getting closer to the cove Dipper had mentioned.

“If it makes you feel better,” Dipper offered, “The TV here is mostly crap.”

It did make Norman feel a little better, he thought. They’d wandered far enough now that the shore was narrowing, and a bank full of towering pine trees shaded the whole path.

“Like, I swear the only movies they show here are like, fourth-generation knock-offs. Like, low-budget copies of low-budget copies of movies that were already straight-to-DVD,” Dipper continued.

Norman laughed at his comparison, “Aw man, that sounds hilarious!”

“It’s _awful_.”

“Yeah, it sounds hilariously awful,” Norman said, “Still makes it pretty funny. I _love_ watching bad movies. Like horror movies that try so hard to be scary they just end up being funny, and stuff like that? _Perfect_.”

“Man, really?” Dipper asked, “We have _got_ to have a good ole Gravity Falls cable TV movie marathon. Everything they show here has a ridiculous title like ‘Invasion of the Alien Vampire Were-cats’.”

“ _Hell_ _yes_.” Norman said.

Their conversation and their walking came to a halt, then, as Norman just about walked into an extensive patch of prickly, snarling bushes. They extended from up on the bank all the way to the water, poking out of the shallows threateningly.

“Hmmm,” Dipper said, evaluating their path. “So... Um. This might be a small problem.”

Norman forged carefully ahead, stepping over patches of prickly bushes and making his way onwards through the muddy, tangled shrubbery. Dipper followed, quite literally in Norman’s footsteps, as they tried to find a way to get through the brush without getting torn to shreds by brambles.

Beyond the patch of briars there was a stand of aspens, spindly and crowded, and the closer they got to it the more Norman could see of what was behind it: a little inlet, muddy and shallow and quite protected by trees and bushes. It looked like the perfect cover for a large, shy supernatural beast.

“Hey, look at that,” Norman stopped to point towards the little cove. Dipper nearly walked into him.

“Oh, cool,” Dipper said softly, peering past Norman. “That looks like it might be a good spot.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Norman took another step through the mud.

They both stood cautiously when they approached the small stand of trees, peering towards the sheltered little area; but the water was dark and still and quiet, no threat rearing its head, so they walked onwards. The hidden inlet they’d discovered seemed fairly abandoned, just a mucky little cove along the lake, with steep eroded banks covered in scrappy saplings. The most interesting thing about it was the middle-a tiny island sat in the water, devoid of trees and brambles-the rest of it was overgrown and muddy and unassuming.

“Hmm. Not much here,” Dipper said, walking past Norman to climb down to the water’s edge, peering in.

When nothing suddenly jumped out of the water at Dipper, Norman shuffled down the bank to stand beside him and join him in searching. The water looked deep and muddy, and there wasn’t much to make out in it. The hulking shapes of submerged boulders and the skeletons of drowned trees sat threateningly in the murky water, but made no attempt at suddenly animating themselves.

Norman hazarded a step across one muddy bank to the small, mossy island. He offered a hand to Dipper as the other boy crossed behind him.

“Well, this place is interesting, but I don’t think there’s much of anything alive here,” Dipper said, “And doesn’t seem like there has been for a while,” he added, searching the ground beneath them for animal tracks.

“You could maybe put up a trail cam or something out here,” Norman suggested, pointing to the trees surrounding the water’s edge, “There’s a lot of good spots to set one.”

“Mhm,” Dipper considered. “I wonder if there’s a place that sells them around here.”

Norman was busy watching the ground, a curious mat of grass and mud and twigs. He began to wander to the other side of the tiny island, when the chunk of earth he stepped on gave a little more than it should have.

And then it gave _way_ more than it should have, and the whole ground was moving, and coming apart, and Norman found himself, much to his surprise, plunged unto the muddy, churning water below them.


End file.
